Alexander Dantes
by William Theodore Savage
Summary: Alexander Dantes was a mere child, eager to learn magic, but he was a muggle-born and he knew not what that meant. But after his first night in Hogwarts he learned, and now this new world would suffer the consequences. Join him as he enacts his revenge, learns the secrets of magic, and fights for his very survival. Covers Years 1-7, Canon Compliant. MATURE! PART ONE! COMPLETE!
1. Year 1 Part 1

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Warning: This story contains dark and mature themes. Read at your own discretion.

**EDITED**: By popular demand, Year's One through Seven will be uploaded here for an easier reader experience. The chapters have been condensed but no content changes have happened at this time.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

There is a castle that normal eyes cannot see, sitting on a cliff no enemy can breach. A single safe path leads through a dark forest, connecting it to a nearby settlement full of men and women and beings who can do the most wonderful, magical things. These men, these women, these wizards, and witches, are of the magical settlement Hogsmeade, which rests within sight of the world-famous Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is their home.

It was just before dawn on the 2nd of September, 1991, and the day after the sorting ceremony for the new first years. It was a grand and noble tradition, stretching back centuries to the very Founders of Hogwarts themselves. Thousands of students had sat under that ancient garment, being judged and sorted into one of four noble houses. It was a tradition integral to Magical Britan.

But it was imperfect. The nobility and bravery of Gryffindor could hide the most cowardly traitors. Those pursuing knowledge found sanctuary in Ravenclaw but were quick to disbelieve any who had a differing point of view. The hard-working and loyal Hufflepuffs were just as likely to fall to peer pressure and laziness. And those cunning Slytherins, so eager for power and to fulfill their ambitions, that they'll betray anyone for even the illusion of gain.

Yes, the Hogwarts houses had their strengths, but each was a double-edged sword, able to turn on any member at a moment's notice. And as dawn broke over Hogwarts, the light shined on one such individual.

A young boy, waking for the first time in Hogwarts, stirred as a warm ray of light struck his face. Dried blood caked his skin, and he groaned as he slowly stirred, pain wracking his fragile frame. Half-blinded by the pain and the light, he didn't see where his grasping hands reached, but he could feel it. On the cold stone of Hogwarts, his wand, bought just a few weeks prior, lay snapped in half.

A feeble amount of warmth could be felt at the edge of his fingers, the dying breath of the dragon heartstring core held by hazel. Tears fell from the boy's eyes and a vast well of emotion and magic built within him. The paintings on the walls swayed, the armor beneath them rattled, and a furious wind whipped itself around the small boy. And at one critical moment, it pulled inwards, focusing upon the boy.

The wand snapped together, and the scent of burning wood filled the air as they were seared into one piece from within. The young boy's face, streaked with tears and blood, noticeably brightened as he once more felt a searing warmth from within cool wood. He raised his wand high, with a blinding, tear-filled smile, and opened his mouth to exclaim, when it happened.

The fire burnt out. The dragon heartstring core, having reforged its vessel, did so at the expense of its own fire. As it died, the wand became lifeless, dead wood, and the boy felt as if a part of him died. He fell to his knees as an unmistakable sense of loss overcame him, and he felt true despair.

What should have been a joyous day of excitement and learning, the start of his journey as a wizard, was instead one of torment, loss, and grief. But within him he had one last ray of hope, remembering the words his Head of House had spoken to them all last night:

"Your house is like a family. You are here to help one another learn and grow. And, as always, I am available should anyone need it," Professor Flitwick had said, the tiny wizard shorter than even the first years but seen by all from his spot by the door. "My office is just down the hall, and you may come to me at any hour, day or night."

The boy struggled to his feet, gritting his teeth in pain. Step by step, he moved down the hall, his eyes darting left and right, looking for a familiar landmark that would lead him back to Ravenclaw Tower. Clutched in his hand was his dead wand, whole but without power. The only thing this child had left was a hope, a hope that his professor could fix his wand.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

Alexander Dantes staggered down the hall, every step was full of pain, but it was slowly becoming more bearable as his body adjusted. He had been walking for only a few minutes before arriving at a corridor he knew to lead to Ravenclaw Tower, which meant that Professor Flitwick's office was nearby. He raised his hand to knock on the closest door when a voice spoke from behind him.

"Good heavens!" Professor Flitwick cried. He dropped the pile of scrolls he was holding, sending them rolling across the floor. "What happened to you, young man?"

Alexander gestured with his free hand behind him and opened his mouth to speak, but Professor Flitwick cut him off. "Let's clean you up, shall we?"

The tiny professor waved his wand in lazy, wide loops. With each circuit, more blood fell off Alexander's body, revealing the bruised and cut flesh underneath. Professor Flitwick tutted, before waving his wand again, soothing the bruises and causing the cuts to stem the renewed flow of blood.

He nodded in satisfaction. "That should do it. You should see Madam Pomfrey about the scarring; she'll be able to remove them sufficiently enough. Now, what happened?"

Alexander watched as the professor lazily waved his wand, summoning the loose scrolls to his arms. He looked down at his wand in his hand sadly before looking back at Professor Flitwick. "My wand is broken."

Professor Flitwick's eyes widened in surprise and a faint trace of concern. "My word! That is indeed serious, do you have the pieces?"

"Yes, well, no." Alexander held up his wand to the professor, showing it whole and unbroken, although with a burnt ring around the middle. "It was broken, but now it's not."

An odd look that Alexander couldn't understand came over Professor Flitwick's face. "Mr. Dantes, your wand is in one piece."

"I know that, but it doesn't cast magic!" Alexander tried to explain. This was not going how he had hoped at all, and he couldn't understand why the professor was being difficult.

Professor Flitwick struggled not to roll his eyes at Alexander. "Of course not, we haven't taught you any spells yet! Honestly, there's always one muggle-born who thinks they're the next Merlin," the wizened professor muttered. Alexander grew red in rage.

"That's not what I meant, I mean they broke it!"

"They?" Professor Flitwick asked blankly. "Who's they? Are we getting to why you were covered in scrapes and bruises?"

Alexander nodded, missing the professor's disbelief entirely. "It was the prefect: Hilliard or something. And the boy with the other badge. And some of their friends. I couldn't sleep so I went for a walk and they found me-."

He was cut off by an irate professor. "-and two young men, both entrusted with positions of authority harassed some first year?" Professor Flitwick finished, giving Alexander a dark look. "Mr. Dantes, there is no need for this to go on any further."

"There isn't?" Alexander asked in confusion. Then a warm feeling began to grow in his breast, that justice would be done.

"Of course not, not when the truth is so easily seen. I will not abide by this any longer!"

"Great! What's next?" Alexander asked, his faith in adults restored.

"Detention tomorrow with Filch, for you," Professor Flitwick said, glaring at the boy.

And just like that, Alexander's hopes collapsed into nothing, the small amount of warmth it provided vanishing without a trace. "What?" he asked, lost.

Professor Flitwick nodded firmly to himself. "In fact, make that two detentions. Never have I heard such an absurd lie."

"But, professor, I'm telling the truth!" Alexander protested. He was numb.

This time the tiny professor did roll his eyes. "Yes, you went out for a walk, after curfew, and was found by our seventh-year prefect and Head Boy who proceded to what, what exactly are you accusing them of?"

Alexander could not help but duck his eyes, as Professor Flitwick's eyes glared darkly into his own. Unfortunately, this was taken as an admission of guilt.

"Two detentions, and be glad it isn't more! Next time you tumble down the stairs and seek to blame your clumsiness on others, pick believable candidates! Now go get cleaned up and go off to breakfast."

The short professor walked off, leaving the first year behind with a burnt-out wand and a shattered trust in any authority figure. Alexander almost collapsed, wanting to fall to the ground and cry once more, but something twisted inside of him. As he watched the retreating professor's back disappear around a corner, he listened to what that feeling was telling him.

He turned and walked back to the Ravenclaw dormitory, and only one thing sat in his thoughts, consuming them utterly. He knew not how he'd do it, or when, but Alexander did know what he was doing to do:

Vengeance.

He wouldn't hurt the bullies as they hurt him. No, that'd be too simple, too easy. He wanted them ruined, some vital part of them broken like how his wand was broken, how he was broken.

He found himself before the Ravenclaw Doorknocker. "What is impossible?" the eagle's mouth asked.

Alexander gazed up at its frozen features, silently contemplating the question. "Nothing," he said defiantly, his jaw firmly set.

For a long moment, it seemed as if the guardian would deny him entrance, but it clicked its beak and opened the door. Alexander silently stepped through, his thoughts once more consumed by his self-chosen task. He had no idea that this was the moment that would set him on an impossible journey, one that would herald terror and turmoil to billions. It would create a war that would eventually bring the world to its knees and build it anew through trials, tribulation, and death.

And Alexander Dantes would be the one to bring it about.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

Alexander sat quietly at the Ravenclaw table, mechanically eating while his year mates whispered all around him about his cuts and bruises. As much as he would love for the injuries to be healed, he didn't know where the Hospital Wing is, and the thought of asking one of the older years for aid brings up painful memories of last evening's events. The sound of a throat clearing behind him makes him tense.

"Here's your schedule, Mr. Dantes," Professor Flitwick said, placing a rolled-up scroll on the table next to Alexander's tensed arm. "Try not to have any more adventures between your classes."

To his horror and betrayal, the other first years giggled, turning their bodies and focusing on one another. As Professor Flitwick continues his path down the Ravenclaw table, Alexander is left alone in a crowded room and experiences loneliness for the first time in his life.

It's only a few minutes later that the female fifth year's prefect, Penelope Clearwater, approaches the first years. "Up you get boys and girls. I'll be guiding you around Hogwarts today. You best pay attention as Hogwarts is rather large, and it's easy to get lost."

Alexander and the other first years stood and followed her, Alexander willingly falling behind as the group ahead of him closed ranks. It was near the doors to the Great Hall when he felt something hit his foot, causing him to trip and fall to the stones. Groaning, he slowly got to his feet.

"Stupid Mudblood," a boy said from the Ravenclaw table. He was putting his wand away, and Alexander recognized him from the previous night as the one who used the curses that make his stomach feel like it was being twisted. "Know your place."

The boy's friends laughed, and Alexander's face twisted in anger and confusion. Mudblood. What an odd insult. At least, Alexander assumed it was an insult based on the context, but it was just so bizarre. Which fit in with the rest of the Wizarding World, now that he thought about it. He hurried after Penelope, who was already a fair distance away.

"Good one, Duny," another voice said. Alexander recognized it as the voice of Hilliard.

"Thanks. I think we'll have a fun sport of Mudblood Hunting this year."

Hilliard and Duny. Alexander had two names now and the faces to match. _Now I just needed the other five,_ he thought as he followed the other first-years to their first class, Transfiguration.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

Alexander glared at the match in front of him, laying innocently on the desk and pretending it wasn't trying to offend him with its mere existence. All around him, he could hear his classmates chanting in bastardized Latin as they wave their wands around, with a few shooting sparks from their wand as if to reassure themselves they still had magic.

Alexander looked forlornly at the wand in his hand. Hazel, twelve inches exactly with one, burnt out dragon heartstring as the core. He flicked it and said the spell as clearly as he could.

Nothing happened. Across the room, Professor McGonagall was congratulating one of the first-year Gryffindors on a perfect needle. Alexander could feel anger and shame burning within him, but he tried to focus through them and tried again. He cast the spell again, forcefully this time.

He could feel his magic stir within him, reaching out to his wand. Yet when it reached his hand, it could find no way to connect to the lifeless wood he held tightly. Frustrated, he clenched his wand tightly and tried again, almost shouting the incantation. His magic practically leaped from his hand, ignoring his wand entirely and struck the matchstick in front of him. It immediately caught fire, as did a significant portion of his desk.

Alexander and the nearby students panicked, and their cries alerted Professor McGonagall. The stern Scottish witch turned and saw the first in front of Alexander, and her eyes narrowed. With a sweep of her wand, she extinguished the fire and advanced on Alexander.

"Mr. Dantes! My classroom is not a tinderbox! Ten points from Ravenclaw for reckless wand casting! What do you have to say for yourself?"

Alexander burned at her words. Punishing him before even finding out what had even happened? Was this the professor to represent House Gryffindor, a bullish woman who asked questions after throwing out an unjust punishment? He wisely kept these thoughts to himself as he responded.

"No, professor," Alexander said, trying to be as respectful as he could despite her rudeness. "My wand is broken! I didn't mean to start the fire."

Professor McGonagall's eyes narrowed at him. "I see Professor Flitwick was correct about your need to lie. I had hoped he was mistaken when he told myself and the other teachers, but it seems not. Another ten points from Ravenclaw, Mr. Dantes. Your wand is obviously not broken as you just cast magic! Honestly, I expect a bit more intelligence from a Ravenclaw."

The children in the room laughed as Alexander flushed red from the insult and the embarrassment. "But professor!" he tried to protest.

"Enough! Or it'll be detention!" Professor McGonagall said. Alexander wilted in his seat, causing her to nod in satisfaction before walking away to help a Hufflepuff with her spell.

Alexander slumped in his seat. Unknown to him at the time, on either side of him, the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff he sat next to edging away slightly, closer to their friends, unwilling to be seen associating with him. After all, no child wanted to be friends with someone branded as a liar.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

The next week passed slowly for Alexander, and painfully, as the bullies repeated their initiation each night. At this point, he hadn't even slept in his dorm with the other first-year boys, only being able to enter in the morning, after he woke from a cold and uncomfortable night of sleeping on Hogwart's cobblestones. And more often than not he was mildly cursed with some affliction, that he'd have to wait to wear off before he could move.

It was on the second night that he learned more about the identities of his tormentors. Robert Hilliard and Henry Duny, the seventh year Ravenclaw prefect and Head Boy respectively, were the ring leaders. Herbert Burke and Marvin Fawley were the sixth years with a penchant of nightmare curses. They made sure that whatever sleep Alexander did get was restless. The last three were fifth years, Argo Gibbon, Kevin Rowle, and Albert Tripe, whose skills with a wand were lacking, but they made up for it with physical violence.

The boys were fond of talking to one another while they tormented Alexander. Despite how miserable it made sleeping, Alexander preferred it when Burke and Fawley were cursing him, as it made it easy to eavesdrop, so long as he kept his whimpers down, that is. It almost surprised Alexander how much hatred the boys had for his surname, spitting it out with nearly equal vitriol as the word Mudblood. Still, it was a very unpleasant situation all around, and he was desperately searching for aid.

His year mates were of no help. Every year group in Ravenclaw forms a study group to help each other excel in their classes. Alexander tried to join in once and was run off when three of his year mates, Terry Boot, Mandy Brocklehurst, and Anthony Goldstein, began to throw pinching hexes at him. The other four students just watched on, seemingly unconcerned about intervening. Alexander only entered his dorm to retrieve his belongings after that.

Of the other prefects in Ravenclaw, Alexander approached none of them. Three days after the abuse started, Penelope Clearwater noticed his cut and bruised skin, but other than directing him to Madame Pomfrey, she did nothing to halt it. She almost looked resigned if Alexander thought back on it, but Alexander couldn't understand why.

It was his visit to Madame Pomfrey that finally shut down the expectation that anyone would help him. The Healer took one look at his face before a tenseness developed in her jaw. She healed him with quick, efficient jabs of her wand, each almost as painful as the original injury itself. With her suspicious eyes watching him as he exited, he feels another little part of him die inside, and he realizes that nobody will ever help him.

Which was why, after this hellish first week, he was standing in the Owlery, a small letter held in his hands. Its contents were simple and to the point, asking his parents if they would withdraw him from Hogwarts. But as his hand reached out to one of the school's owls, free for anyone to use, he stopped. The muddy brown colored owl blinked up at him, wide-eyed and entirely at ease with his presence and ignorant of his conflicting thoughts. Alexander slowly let his hand fall, and the owl hooted at him, before tucking its head under its wing.

He approached a nearby brazier and dropped the letter into it. As he watched it burn, he could feel his hopes for the Wizarding World burn up with them, turning to ash under the intense flames. But it helped direct his mind, focus his thoughts, and calm his turbulent emotions.

Alexander came to Hogwarts to learn magic, and he was going to do it, no matter what.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

The abuse continued. No matter where Alexander went in the well walked paths of Hogwarts, the seven bullies could find him. He took sanctuary in the library, where not even they would dare cause trouble, lest Madame Pince, the stern librarian who glared at everyone, forbid them entry. Alexander found he could like a witch who disliked everybody and made sure to be quiet and respectful when in her domain.

It was during the nights, though, when he knew he had to return to Ravenclaw Tower, that Alexander knew he needed to change. Every night he was forced from the common room, often beaten and cursed, and left in some public spot for a teacher to find and give him detention. Which was why he forced himself to limp away from those encounters, instead of laying there and resting; he was done with false authority.

He took to exploring Hogwarts. It was massive, with empty wings full of rooms all over the place. Alexander guesses that they maybe use a fourth of Hogwart's true capacity, and cannot determine why. The number of muggle-borns alone should be enough to fill up the castle, let alone the pure-blood and half-blood students.

It's in these rooms that he begins to find hidden spots. Areas where past students and professors had hidden caches, study rooms, and workspaces. He avoids the ones that were cleaner and well lit, rationalizing that they might even be in use today, but explored the others. He found journals, notes, old homework, and broken experiments all over the place. They're fascinating finds, but they highlight a need Alexander has been feeling keenly for the past few weeks: finding a way to protect himself.

Alexander is in the library every moment outside of class. He searched through shelves of dusty and worn tomes for the few that deal with magical home defense but found precious little available. When he dared make a request to Madame Pince for aide, she gave him a dark look and explained that he would be looking for wards and pointed him to the relevant shelves.

He quickly found what he was looking for but is discouraged when it speaks of runes, alphabets of magical languages that could be used in enchanting, which included wards. Still, he began the slow and painful task of learning those delicate shapes, learning how to carve them by hand. It was an old-fashioned method of carving runes, as the spells for carving perfect runes exist, but they all require one thing: a working wand.

As Alexander bent over the dusty tomes and carefully copied out runic inscriptions, he felt an emotion that finally eclipsed his loneliness, rage, and betrayal. It was joy at finally learning true magic.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

It was Halloween. Alexander almost felt amused at the mere thought, despite how bitter it was. This time last year, he was dressed up as Gandalf. This year he was dressed up as himself. He shook himself and focused on the class at hand, Charms, which was another practical.

He had long since moved to sit in the back of every classroom, close to the door so he could leave as soon as they were dismissed. His fellow students gave him a wide berth, although it was to be expected at this point after every teacher had singled him out as a liar, save Professor Binns, who wasn't even aware of his own death.

Alexander watched the students across the room from him try and cast the levitation charm on their feathers. Most were windmilling their arms so much that they sent their feathers flying by motion alone. But none, it seemed, had managed to control the flight of said feather.

"Oh, well done, Ms. Granger! Ten points to Gryffindor!" Professor Flitwick cheerily congratulated Hermione Granger, who sat in the front row. She had a smug smile on her face as everyone whispered over her accomplishment.

Alexander felt fury. Why was it that one muggle-born was treated so well, while another was ostracized by his house, tormented nightly? One was respected by her teachers while another was labeled a liar? Where was the fairness, where was the justice, where?

Alexander's magic twisted with his emotions inside of him. It took him a moment to realize it wasn't uncomfortable, no, his magic was sympathizing with his feelings, his situation. He reached a metaphysical hand down to it, and his magic surged forward, and he whispered the levitation spell.

His hand pushed outward, almost carelessly, like one would open a door. But his magic soared forward, throwing his feather into the air. But his magic was not done; it kept moving forward, throwing parchment, hair, and the feathers of everyone else sitting in front of him upward in a storm. Chaos reigned for a moment as students panicked, but Professor Flitwick settled it with a casual flick of his wand, returning everything to its proper place. Alexander's feather is the last to return to him, drawing everyone's eye, and Professor Flitwick fixes him with a stern look.

"Five points from Ravenclaw, Mr. Dantes, for causing a ruckus. Try to control yourself in the future."

_Never._ "Of course, Professor Flitwick," Alexander answered. Professor Flitwick gave him a suspicious look but returned his attention back to the class. Alexander didn't pay attention to the rest of the lesson or how it ended. His attention was focused entirely on his magic.

Magic that didn't need a wand to be called forward.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

With magic, controlled magic, finally within his grasp, Alexander began to practice with it every moment he could. He would keep his wand in hands while in public, faking the wand motions while expressing his magic in specific ways to achieve a similar effect. For that's what Alexander was doing. If he wanted that book to come to him, it would. If he wanted to be warmer, the air would warm about him. Alexander spent more time studying what the effects each spell should create and trying to recreate them than he did saying bastardized Latin to accomplish the same task.

He was still being forced from Ravenclaw Tower each night. But abruptly, from his tormentor's point of view, he carried all of his belongings out and vanished into the maze of Hogwart's halls. He dragged his trunk through empty corridors, taking lesser-used routes and even backtracking to make sure no one followed him. He entered an unused classroom on the fourth floor that had an attached bathroom and office. The reason why Alexander chose this location was simple: it was the only room he had found with a secret exit, hidden underneath a desk.

He carefully used a spell to carve the runes he had been studying the past month on the door and empowered them. The wards were just a simple alert line paired with a repelling charm, one meant to make people disinterested with the unused classroom, but were sufficient for their purpose. They should repel anything of human intelligence or lower, or at least hopefully. He collapsed on a pile of cushions he had transfigured and fell asleep.

One glorious night of uninterrupted sleep made him wake up feeling amazing. Which was why when he was walking downstairs for breakfast, he was utterly unprepared to find two pairs of large hands grab him and throw him into a wall.

"Where the hell were you last night, Mudblood?" Robert Hilliard asked. Next to him stood Henry Duny, his Head Boy badge gleaming on his chest. The two seventh years towered over Alexander. Hilliard smacked Alexander in the face. "I wanted to relax after studying for my N.E.W.T.s, and you were nowhere to be found."

Alexander grunted but remained still as he answered. "I figured you guys didn't want me in Ravenclaw Tower, so I left."

Duny smacked Alexander next. "Leave the thinking to us, Mudblood. We'll let you off easy this time, but you won't get so lucky next time," he finished, throwing Alexander into the wall.

The two seventh years walked off, chuckling darkly. Alexander slumped against the wall, his heart hammering in his chest and his face and back stinging. Compared to the last few months, that was positively gentle, considering their usual actions left him bruised and bleeding. Looking around for his bookbag, he was unsurprised to find that one of the seventh-years had torn it, throwing his belongings everywhere, and breaking a few.

He reached for his magic and focused on the repairing charm. The magic came under his control and direction slowly and seemed to twist and writhe before it went to work repairing his belongings. Alexander was curious why, but could not figure it out. Was magic alive?

All of this wandless charm work, however, make him curious why wizards still used wands. Granted, it feels incredible to hold one matched to you, like finding a part of your soul that's been missing all your life, and you were unaware, but was that the only reason? Perhaps it was meant as a training tool, to help hone a wizard or witches connection to magic, to enable them to learn the more powerful wandless casting? Alexander didn't know, and he didn't think anyone else did either.

He would find out. He would ask the questions, finds the answers, then understand magic better than any pure-blood, half-blood, or muggle-born. Alexander wasn't ambitious like a Slytherin, he was curious like a Ravenclaw. But the vengeance he was going to have on Robert Hilliard, Henry Duny, Herbert Burke, Marvin Fawley, Argo Gibbon, Kevin Rowle, and Albert Tripe?

That was personal. He just needed to figure out how.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

It was Christmas, and it could not have come soon enough in Alexander's opinion. As soon as the signup sheet appeared, his name was down, and he spent the remainder of the term dodging any and everyone in the halls. He was still caught, occasionally, by one of his bullies, but they were never in a large enough group or private enough area to do significant damage to him. Still, Alexander was glad to be home once more.

He lived on the outskirts of London with his mom, Cynthia, father, Adrian, and two younger brothers David and Jack. Despite the painful and unpleasant past few months, he was thrilled to see them. And then David opened his mouth.

"What's Hogwarts like? What about your friends? You never write about them," David said, tugging at Alexander's sleeve. "Where's your wand? I want to play with it."

David would never know how each of those questions felt like a punch to the chest, Alexander vowed. Still, by the tightness of his mother and father's eyes, he had a feeling his parents had already figured it out. "Come along, boys, help me make supper. Then Alex can tell us all about his year, and you can tell him about yours," Cynthia said, shooing her two youngest sons out the door. Alexander gave her a thankful smile, and he hated how unnatural the expression felt on his face.

Adrian sighed as he sat down next to Alexander on his bed, putting a comforting hand on his son's shoulders. "What happened, son?"

Alexander didn't answer immediately. He looked around his childhood room, at the toys he hadn't played with in months, the old school books that had been left behind for Hogwarts. Alexander had never felt such a painful longing in him for the normalcy of home, but he feared his father's reaction. However, when Alexander looked into his father's eyes, he saw no judgment, no condemnation. He saw care.

Alexander cried as he darted forward and wrapped his arms around his father. For all the maturity he had, he was still just an eleven-year-old boy in a terrifying situation. As his father's arms wrapped around him, Alexander began to tell him everything that had happened this past year. Every painful night, the professor's actions, the lack of friends, Alexander hid nothing from his father. Eventually, he ran out of things to say.

Adrian said nothing as he hugged his son to his chest tightly. He cleared his throat before speaking. "You have a choice, Alex. You can come home, always, and we will never judge you or hold it against you. We can find tutors or another magical school, perhaps, but you can choose to come home."

Alexander wiped his nose and nodded. "You wouldn't be upset with me?" His father tightened his embrace.

"Never. We'd never be upset or disappointed with you for this. But you have another choice, son. It would be the most difficult thing in your life to do, but I think you could do it."

Alexander pulled back so he could look his father in the eye. "What's that, dad?"

Adrian swallowed painfully before answering. "You can return. And the next time someone attacks you, you fight back. You defend yourself with everything in your power and make them regret ever crossing you."

"I don't understand."

Adrian sighed. "Some men, bullies, cannot be reasoned with, they will not allow you to ignore them no matter what. They cannot be forced to stop, so you must make them stop. And to do that, you must break them. If you go back to Hogwarts and you want a peaceful experience where you can study and make friends, that is what you must do."

"But they're older and stronger than I am," Alexander protested. His father nodded in understanding.

"They usually are, Alex. And that's why you need to fight them. Because they rely on their age and strength instead of their intelligence or character. And because of that, they are far weaker than you are. I wouldn't tell you this if I didn't think you could do it, son."

Alexander remained silent as he thought about his father's words. It wasn't just there physical strength that superseded his own, but their magical strength as well. They had far longer to work and grow their magic, learned spells he couldn't even imagine yet. It seemed impossible.

"Will it make you proud of me? If I return?" Alexander asked in a quiet voice, and his eyes downcast. His father gently lifted his face so they could look eye to eye.

"I'm already proud of you. But the question you should be asking is: Am I proud of myself? Because at the end of the day you're going to have to live with your decision. It's not a question of right or wrong; there is no right or wrong answer here. Just one you can live with."

Alexander nodded and stood up, as tall as he could, and looked his father in the eye. "I'm returning to Hogwarts," he said firmly. Adrian smiled proudly, but also a little sadly.

"I'm happy to hear it. And we're going to do something else if you're up for it. Your mother and I will enroll you in homeschooling so you can keep up with your non-magical studies during the holidays. That was, no matter what, you'll always have options."

Alexander smiled, and unlike earlier, this one didn't feel uncomfortable. "I'd like that, dad."

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

AN: The story content is the same, I've just reformatted it to make it easier to read overall. All seven years will be posted in this singular story. For those of you who have come across this for the first time, I hope you enjoy reading it. For those of you who are returning for a refresher, thank you for returning.

EDIT: There have been a few complaints about how realistic the abuse Alexander's suffered is, as well as how a few of you think someone would notice. In canon, Harry lived under the cupboard under the stairs for years, as well as having bars on his window and being fed through a cat flap. Luna had her belongings stolen and was often forced from Ravenclaw Tower. Neville was left outside of Gryffindor Tower whenever he forgot the password. Umbridge literally tortured students with Blood Quills, and nobody did anything. Taken all together these facts tells me that wizards are remarkably uncaring toward the suffering of others, and combined with how large Hogwarts is, well, there's a lot of space for mischief to happen.

I hope you enjoy the story.


	2. Year 1 Part 2

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

He needed time with his family. Alexander realized that right after he and his father finished their conversation. He needed his annoying little brothers, sharing with them tales of different spells and what Hogwarts looked like. He needed his mother's soft hugs and loving company and how she always knew what he needed before he even needed it. And he definitely needed that talk with his father, the firm reassurance that no matter what, he would always be loved and welcomed home. Hogwarts had changed in his mind. It was no longer a place of wonder and learning. Now it was a forge, where he would be beaten, battered, and sent through trial by fire until the impurities were beaten out. The pure-bloods like Duny and Hilliard thought that they would be the ones to break him, but they were wrong. They were the strikes of a hammer.

_Speak of the devils, and they shall appear_, Alexander thought. They were almost at Hogwarts when the two bullies appeared, slamming the compartment door open. They smirked at him.

"Wow, the Mudblood came back. I'm surprised someone so dumb managed to get into Ravenclaw; even a dim Mudblood would know when they aren't wanted," Duny taunted.

Alexander took a steadying breath before glaring up at them. "Duny, I always forget: Did your mother sleep with her brother to have you, or a troll?"

The compartment became deathly silent as the two pure-bloods looked at Alexander in disbelief. Alexander began to feel the faint traces of amusement at that comeback when a roar of rage deafened him, echoing around unpleasantly. The next thing he was aware of was a fist meeting his face and throwing him off his seat and onto the ground.

"You little Mudblood bastard! You are the stupidest piece of filth to ever get into Hogwarts. If you thought us messing with you before was rough, you have no idea what's coming your way!" Duny shouted as he laid several vicious kicks into Alexander's side. The eleven-year-old curled up in a ball to try to protect himself.

"Duny!" Hilliard hissed, forcing him away from Alexander. Duny shoved him off and tried to kick Alexander again. "Duny! We need to get out of here before anyone sees you beating the crap out of a Mudblood. Even Dumbledore won't ignore witnesses."

"Fine," Duny spat, halting his advance. He moved forward and searched through Alexander's robes, searching. A moment later, he pulls out Alexander's wand. "I don't know how you got another wand, Mudblood, but I'm snapping this one too. You're not worthy of magic."

A loud snap filled the air, and a clatter of wooden pieces fell next to Alexander on the floor. The two seventh years hurried away, leaving Alexander alone to recover. Slowly he uncurled, his eyes falling on the twice-snapped pieces of his wand before him. He touches them gently and casts a repairing charm, causing the pieces to snap together seamlessly. It'll never work again, he's known that for months, but it was special to him. As he slowly sat back up, a curious face peered into his compartment.

"Why are you covered in blood?" a curious Hermione Granger asked, a frown on her face. Alexander gave her a dirty look.

"I had a disagreement with the floor," he answered snidely. Hermione sniffed.

"Sarcasm. I thought you Ravenclaws would have wittier retorts."

"Pointing out the obvious. Exactly what I expect from a Gryffindor," Alexander shot back. He slowly collapsed into his seat. Hermione fretted in the doorway, looking half-appalled and half-concerned. She finally settled on just ignoring his situation entirely and sat across from him.

"Did you finish Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration assignment? The Switching Spell we're learning seems fascinating," she said. Alexander bit back a groan. While Hermione began chattering about the spells they'll be learning in the coming weeks, Alexander let his mind wander to what to do about Duny and Hilliard. They thought snapping his wand meant he was unworthy of magic? He'll see how they liked it.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Despite how annoying she was, Hermione Granger did say one interesting thing. Switching Spells were curious bits of magic, in that they switched objects instantly and seamlessly. This is how quite a few magical creatures were created, when some enterprising witch or wizard experimented with animal parts. The history and notes of these examples were very unpleasant for Alexander to read, and he made sure to note to never bring up to centaurs that their entire race started because some wizard in Pompeii wanted to improve himself in the bedroom.

Apparently, centaur wars had been fought over it.

Alexander's interest in Switching Spells stemmed from an important fact he found in a N.E.W.T. guidebook provided to all Ravenclaw seventh-years, namely that any witch or wizard caught cheating during the tests were expelled immediately, without exception. This was not even done by the Hogwart's professors, although they'd no doubt agree, but the N.E.W.T. examiners who would not hesitate to cut the cheaters out.

Which meant, if Alexander could frame Duny and Hilliard for cheating during their exams, they'd be expelled, and their wands snapped.

While Alexander would normally never condone such drastic action, he had also spent the better part of a year being tormented by the two hooligans and their gang, with no help from the teachers or other students. So, Alexander was not feeling very charitable to the two boys and was quite willing to ruin their lives, as they had done to him. Who knows, they might even learn wandless magic like he did, in which case they should be thanking him. However, Alexander doubted they would on either account.

It took him several weeks of effort to get his hands on a copy of both boy's homework. Alexander was taking no chances with his plan failing, the fictitious cheat sheet he was making for Duny and Hilliard would be written in their own hand, even if he had to write it down himself. Fortunately, there were ways around that, namely an odd spell that allowed a quill to mimic handwriting. It wasn't without its flaws, namely its tendency to write on any surface, but under Alexander's watchful eyes, he carefully constructed two cheat sheets using old N.E.W.T. exams he found in a locked room on the sixth floor.

While a lot of the ancient rune and advanced arithmancy knowledge was beyond him, he did find significant portions of it understandable. Alexander wondered why the two weren't taught to the lower years. It would be far more useful than Astronomy, whose only real use was to aid students in harvesting cycles for plants and animal parts for use in potions. Not even rituals relied on celestial events, despite hearsay saying otherwise.

It was just absurd, but then again, it was magic.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

It was about a month before the year-end exams when Alexander felt something trip his alarm ward. He was in the office of his claimed classroom that he had converted into a small bedroom using pilfered cushions as a bed. It took Alexander a moment to understand what it was he was feeling, as he had never felt a ward tripping before, and he couldn't quite place the metaphysical poking happening on his shoulder. Once he realized what it was, he immediately panicked and lunged for his belongings, throwing them in his trunk. Hurriedly packing, he strained to hear into the classroom, but he could only hear the sound of angry footsteps, and wooden furniture being slammed aside.

Closing the lid on his trunk, he dragged it to the secret entrance hidden under the desk and slid it in. Alexander slid in after it and closed the entrance, and not a moment too soon, as Duny and Hilliard entered the room, glaring around angrily.

"Where's the Mudblood?" Duny asked darkly. He slashed his wand at the cushions, shredding them before moving around the room. "You told me you saw him enter this room."

"I did. He must have snuck out when I came to find you," Hilliard replied, checking the bathroom. "We'll find him. I need to blow off some steam; Professor Flitwick is killing me with these essays."

Alexander risked peaking out of his hiding spot, opening the secret passage just enough for him to see out. He nearly whimpered when he found both boy's feet right in front of him.

"Forget it," Duny growled. "We need to focus on N.E.W.T.s. We'll get the Mudblood after we're done, make it a party."

"Should be fun," Hilliard agreed. The two boys left, leaving Alexander alone with his racing heart.

It took him only a few minutes to relax enough to move, but another twenty before he risked venturing out into the halls. While he was fond of his secret rooms, he was not so foolish as to stay in a spot where anyone could find him, so it was time to move to another location.

Fortunately, he already had several in mind. The one he chose was the least friendly and welcoming area he'd found in Hogwarts, even topping the dungeons with their bloodied cells and rusted chains. The room was full of glass jars filled to the brim with the bones of all sorts of creatures, including several humanoid ones. The notes Alexander had found indicated it was a student with an interest in necromancy and was trying to create a perfect being. Their attempts failed, and Alexander reasoned that the ancient skeleton he found in the antechamber was the poor fool's remains.

Still, the rooms were large and had a fantastic view of the lake surrounding Hogwarts. By their elevation and location, Alexander guessed he was located overlooking the westernmost cliff-face, which meant he had some truly remarkable sunsets every evening.

Alexander began to carve runes into the door. He wouldn't settle for a simple alert and warning this time, no, he had learned his lesson. Alexander would add to them, building and shoring up his defenses every time he learned more. He would never allow himself to be vulnerable again.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The first-years had their exams first, by virtue of them being the easiest to administer from the stressed professors. It suited Alexander just fine, as it would allow him to find a prime spot from which to enact his revenge against Duny and Hilliard. He found himself looking forward to it a great deal.

As for the exams themselves, they were lackluster in Alexander's opinion. The practicals were straight forward, and despite his magic fluctuating oddly during the spell casting, it obeyed well enough that no one could deny he could perform the material. The theory section was much more interesting in his opinion as both Professors Flitwick and McGonagall insisted on keeping him in view while he wrote his exams. They probably assumed him to attempt to cheat; after all, he was a liar in their eyes.

Perhaps Alexander shouldn't have thrown a smirk in their direction, but he really shouldn't have been surprised when Professor McGonagall handed him a detention on the spot. "Yes, professor," Alexander said, resigned. "Should I go to your office this evening at seven?"

The stern woman gave him a suspicious look. "No. In fact, you'll serve it now." Alexander began to panic, the seventh-years were about to start their charms theory in the Great Hall, and he desperately wanted to enact his plan today. "Filch! A moment, if you please."

The grumpy, dirty man stomped over with a disagreeable expression on his face. "Yes, professor?" the man growled.

"Would you keep Mr. Dantes occupied in the Main Hall for the next few hours? He's up to something, and I want him to have no chance for mischief."

Filch smiled with a mouth full of crooked teeth. "Yes, professor. Come along, brat. I have just the task for you."

It took every ounce of Alexander's self-control to not break out in a grin from how perfect this worked out for him. An alibi, a perfect view of the Great Hall, and all under McGonagall's watch? Perfect.

Filch slammed a scraggly broom into Alexander's hands. "Sweep. And if you miss a spot, I'll have you sweep again. And if you finish early, I'll have you do it anyway," he said, with a dark glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

Alexander rolled his eyes but got to work. Just a bit longer before he could finally be free of two of his tormentors. He was looking forward to it.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

It was a mind-numbingly dull time sweeping in circles, the awful caretaker occasionally walking behind him and muttering threats, but well worth it. The seventh-years trickled in, some of them laughing at the caretaker's new assistant, but largely ignoring Alexander. It allowed him to watch where his two targets, Duny and Hilliard sat, and to Alexander's great fortune, it was very close to the front where the professors and N.E.W.T. examiners stood. Their exam started, and one of the professors shut the doors to the Great Hall, blocking the room from view.

Which was completely fine. The true beauty of Switching Spells was that you did not need to know the location of both of the objects you were switching, although it did help with focus. You just needed to know where one was. There were, of course, many limitations to such spells, such as being constrained to lightweight objects, being unable to switch things inside of objects, including the human body, and being unable to switch an object with air. Mass needed mass, after all. If switching an object into an empty room, the material in between also affected the effectiveness of the spell. Still, Alexander was hoping that the wooden doors would not prove impossible to overcome.

It was only twenty minutes later that Alexander reasoned he waited long enough. He swept carefully in a circle, making sure Filch could see how both hands were on the broom in front of him. Focusing his magic and intent on his pockets, and the cheat sheets contained therein, he whispered the switching spell under his breath, with his targets in mind.

He felt the two scrolls vanish from his pocket, with nothing seemingly replacing them. He carefully swept for a few more brushes before a few muffled voices could be heard, the words unintelligible but unmistakenly angry. Filch gave the doors to the Great Hall a curious look before looking at Alexander. Alexander's answering shrug brought a scowl to the hostile caretaker's face, and the wretched man opened his mouth to speak.

The doors to the Great Hall opened. Three of the N.E.W.T. examiners were escorting Robert Hilliard and Henry Duny out at wand point, the cheat sheets clutched by an angry, wizened witch who was ranting.

"Never, in all my years as an examiner, have I come across such a blatantly stupid pair of fools such as yourselves! Cheating! And trying to deny it despite the obvious proof right here! Your wands will be snapped for this! Up to Dumbledore's office, now!" she shouted, pushing the two shocked boys through the Entrance Hall and up the stairs. Left behind were a shell-shocked audience of seventh-years, two professors, the final two examiners, and a caretaker.

And one Alexander Dantes, ducking his head to hide his smile, as he removed two barbules from his pocket.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

He didn't know why, but dinner that night tasted wonderful. Alexander was sitting at the Ravenclaw table, enjoying the sense of relief that was coursing through him. All anyone could talk about was how Headmaster Dumbledore snapped their wands before escorting the two fools to the Ministry of Magic to be charged with cheating. Alexander was satisfied.

It was near the end of the meal that a harried-looking Headmaster Dumbledore walked in, accompanied by an even older, much shorter, man who looked as though he would fall over from a stiff breeze. They seemed to be talking furiously, and Alexander strained to listen in.

"It's been destroyed, where I hid it, in fact. It's far too dangerous to leave lying around, Nicholas," Dumbledore whispered. The older man glared up at him.

"I've kept my stone safe for hundreds of years, and I let you protect it for one year, and now you destroy it? You go too far, Albus," the man angrily said. "It should have been on my choice!"

Dumbledore sighed. "Nothing can be done now; the temptation it provided was too much for normal wizards. I'm sorry you won't be able to create another."

As the two wizards walked past Alexander, to the staff's table, he pondered their words. A stone? A temptation too much for normal wizards? Destroyed where it was hidden, that was obviously the third-floor corridor, there would be no other reason for the headmaster to forbid it otherwise. But what was the stone? Who was Nicholas?

Headmaster Dumbledore cleared his throat as he settled in front of his throne-like chair. The hall immediately quieted, eager to hear what he had to say about the fates of Hilliard and Duny.

"Good evening, everyone! As you might have noticed tonight, Hogwarts is hosting a special guest. One, Nicholas Flamel, the Immortal Alchemist! Perhaps if you ask the right questions, he might be willing to impart a few tidbits of wisdom."

As the hall whispered in excitement, Alexander couldn't tear his eyes away from the resigned Nicholas Flamel, who was angrily cutting into his roast. Nicholas Flamel. The Immortal Alchemist. His stone.

The Philosopher's Stone was at Hogwarts. And Albus Dumbledore destroyed it.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander would never be able to explain what drove him from his bed that evening. Perhaps it was the shock of thinking someone like Albus Dumbledore would so easily destroy a Philosopher's Stone. Maybe he had been a bit curious as to what the aftermath of such an event would look like, as it couldn't possibly leave the world untouched. Or maybe it was something else that he would never discover.

Regardless of the reason why he found himself on the third floor and going through the rooms. What was the purpose of a large, empty room filled with scratch marks? Or the pit underneath it, filled with burnt twigs and leaves, and covered in scorch marks? Or the next room filled with hundreds of keys, obviously meant to unlock something, but useless as the door they were meant for had been opened already?

The giant chess set was impressive, at least, the shattered pieces laying all around as if they had fought a great battle. A black pawn had waved a sword at Alexander feebly but couldn't stop him from walking past and entering the next room. This one was noteworthy for no other reason than its scent, an overpowering stank that reminded Alexander of the sewer burning. It came from a sleeping troll who was curled around its club, like some perverse wooden teddy bear.

The next room was less interesting. A potion puzzle lay on a stone bench, but the useful vials had not refilled themselves. Instead, Alexander used a basic flame-tickling charm and simply walked through the flames, disappointed by the intellect who thought that was a challenge. But it was the last room that held Alexander's interest the most.

A large mirror was placed in the center of the room, a majestic, towering mirror. Alexander approached it slowly, looking up to read the inscription carefully before realizing it was backward, as if it needed to be held up to a mirror to be read.

"I show not your face but your heart's desire," Alexander read aloud. Curious, he stepped in front of it.

There was nothing. All Alexander could see was himself, a growing frown on his face before realization set in. He doesn't see his family, because he knows he'll see them soon. He doesn't see riches beyond compare, because he's never wanted for anything. He doesn't even see Hilliard and Duny, broken beneath his feet, for they're already being punished by the society they revere. The other five boys would always remain on his mind, but he would give them one chance to change their ways before he ruined them in the same way.

As he thinks these things, Alexander realizes how sad his life truly is. Unlike other Ravenclaws, he doesn't learn for the sake of learning; he learns to survive. Alexander stares himself in the eye, face to mirror, and makes a vow: That he would find something to live for. Something glitters out of the corner of his eye, and he turns, spotting stone that had been melted through magic. And in its center was a tiny sliver of Philosopher's Stone, glinting softly in the light.

As he pockets it and walks away, Alexander doesn't see the Mirror of Erised change. He doesn't see how it shows him, much older, his outstretched and magic whirling around him, carrying bricks, stones, and lumber. Something is being built under his direction, something great, but casting a deep shadow on the world. The image fades as Alexander shuts the door behind him.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: End of Year One.

I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	3. Year 2 Part 1

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The Hogwarts Express rocked back and forth gently, an almost relaxing sensation. As it raced across the countryside toward Hogwarts, it was full of laughter, cheer, and reunions between friends, catching up on the summer apart and sharing tales of their adventures. It was a pleasant time for all, save one.

Alexander Dantes sat alone in a compartment, watching the countryside pass him by with disinterest. He was bored by the long train ride, wishing he could be using it productively but having already read through his coursebooks over the summer.

He smiled softly at remembering his summer. His father, Adrian Dantes, kept his word about homeschooling Alexander. When he arrived, he was met with a stack of non-magical books and coursework almost as tall as he was. Alexander shouldn't have been so excited about learning, he knew that, but it was a sign that his parents cared about his wellbeing, that they wanted him to have options after Hogwarts. That simple fact would always bring a smile to his face.

His younger brothers, David and Jack, were upset that he couldn't join them for playtime, but he made a point to play board and card games with them in the evening. It was nice, but after spending so much of the last year alone, he found himself yearning for the solitude. Which his mother, Cynthia, provided.  
Anytime dealing with his brothers became too much, she always seemed to know and created a distraction for them. He was very thankful for her actions, and any time she asked him to take out the trash, he did so without complaint. But he did draw the line at helping to get his brothers into the bath.

It was a stray comment from his father that made Alexander angry with the Wizarding World. "So, what kind of post-Hogwarts magical education is there? Is there a magic college somewhere?" Adrian asked one evening.

Alexander didn't know. It took him two trips to Diagon Alley with his father to find the necessary books, and the information was infuriating: There was post-Hogwarts education in the form of masteries, but no muggle-born had been accepted for one in over eighty years.

Alexander was so furious that his magic slipped from his control and wrecked a rather ugly vase that his Aunt Amy had given them two years ago. He immediately began to panic, remembering the notice they were all given at the end of the year at Hogwarts, saying that they did not have permission to cast spells in the muggle world over the break. He sat their morosely, thinking that he was about to be expelled and jailed for breaking the Statute of Secrecy.

Only nobody ever came.

Hours came and went, his parents came home from work, and his brothers came scurrying soon after, dropped off from football practice. His mother faked being sad about the broken vase, and baked cookies, giving him the first one off the platter. Hours later, he was sitting in his room, levitating his spellbooks, and not a single notice from the Ministry of Magic could be seen.

Alexander reasoned that the Ministry only tracked wanded magic and that since accidental magic, and wandless magic, were done without a wand it meant they couldn't be traced. He eagerly dove back into his books, convincing his father to buy more in Diagon Alley took a little effort, but was well worth it as he pushed his studies ahead.

Which left him back here, on the Hogwarts Express, bored out of his mind and with nothing new to read until they arrived. Alexander couldn't even look at the pretty shard of philosopher's stone he found at the end of the last year as he wisely chose to leave that behind in the muggle world, buried in his sock drawer, after he realized it was still beyond him to figure out.

A knock on the compartment door startled him, and he turned to see it open. Hermione Granger stood there, nervous, but looking him in the eye. "Do you mind if I join you? Everywhere else is full."

Alexander blinked in confusion but reluctantly nodded his head.

"I suppose?" he replied. Hermione beamed at him.

"Thank you!" She tucked herself into the seat across from him and stared expectantly at him. Alexander didn't know why.

"Why are you staring at me?" he finally asked. Now Hermione was confused.

"You haven't introduced yourself," she replied.

"Granger, we've been in the same classes for a year now."

She flushed red. "Well, yes, but we haven't talked until now. I'm Hermione Granger," she said, sticking out her hand.

Alexander reluctantly shook it. "Alexander Dantes," he replied shortly. An awkward silence fell over the compartment that even Hermione could feel. Not wanting to spend the rest of the train ride like this, Alexander tried to be friendly. "Where are your friends?"

He nearly winced at the lost expression that crossed over Hermione's face. She fiddled with the edge of her robes before answering. "I don't know. I couldn't find them on the train."

Realizing he might have made the situation worse, he quickly apologized. "Sorry, I should have figured when I didn't see them following you around like lost puppies."

Hermione laughed quietly. "They're not that bad. Well, maybe, Ron. Do you remember when they got lost on the first day of classes last year? Professor McGonagall threatened to turn them into a pocket watch!"

Alexander's jaw tightened at the mention of the Transfiguration teacher. He still wasn't overly fond of her. "So what's your favorite thing about magic?" he asked, trying to move the conversation to more comfortable grounds.

She noticeably lit up. "I like Charms. Professor Flitwick makes the practicals fun, although I wish he'd spend more time on theory, like Professor McGonagall. Did you know that she..."

Alexander suppressed a sigh as Hermione began to wax poetic about their professors. In truth, he was disappointed. She was a bright witch, who often got her spells right quickly. That she worshipped the professors instead of just respecting their position and power was slightly annoying in his mind. Still, this was the most pleasant conversation he'd had with any of the students at Hogwarts yet, and he wasn't going to run her off simply because of her conversation skills.

That'd be impolite.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

For the first time in his time at Hogwarts, Alexander woke up in Ravenclaw Tower. It was a pleasant experience, but he could have done without the confrontation by his year mates soon after he woke up.

"What are you doing here?" Terry Boot asked, his nose stuck up in the air.

"I was sleeping. Now I'm getting dressed," Alexander answered. Terry grew red in the face.

"Yes, but why are you sleeping here now? I thought after last year you found another place to sleep!"

Alexander grew still for a moment before resuming to put on his robes. "So you were aware of what was happening last year, good to know. Now get out of my way."

Michael Connor blocked his way. "Not until you tell us! We deserve to know; we're your year mates."

"My year mates? Do you mean the cowards who let the fourth person in their dorm be bullied and tormented for a year? Those year mates?" Alexander was not pleased to see how Michael and Terry grew red and looked away, in anger or shame he didn't know, nor did he care. A slow movement caught the corner of his eye. "You pull that wand out, Goldstein, and I'll shove it down your throat."

The movement wavered before continuing. Whirling about, Alexander launched a vicious pinching hex at Anthony Goldstein's hand, causing him to drop his wand. Alexander turned his wand back to point at a very nervous Terry Boot and Michael Corner.

"You will leave me alone. You will not touch my things. You will not talk to me, and you won't even acknowledge my existence even if a professor pairs us up for a project. In return, I'll pretend that your inaction last year didn't result in me being bullied by seven of our housemates. Any objections? No? Good."

As Alexander crossed the doorway, Terry Boot regained enough spine to shout out, "you're going dark, Dantes!"

Alexander halted and shot him a withering look. "I'm dark because I cast a pinching hex? You take idiot to a whole new level, Boot. Or maybe you're just living up to your name by being as dumb as a boot?"

Ignoring the sputtering that caused, Alexander left Ravenclaw Tower for breakfast. He knew he shouldn't care, but knowing that his year mates, the boys who should have been his friend, were aware of his torment and did nothing? That hurt.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

It was only a few minutes into breakfast when Professor Flitwick appeared, handing out the schedules for this year. The tiny professor hesitated briefly when he reached Alexander.

"Is there an issue with my schedule, professor?" Alexander asked with his voice as calm as he could make it. He wasn't pleased to see the short man, not at all. Professor Flitwick sighed.

"No, there isn't." He placed a scroll by Alexander's side. "However, I was curious if you knew anything about what happened to Messers Duny and Hilliard last year during their exams."

"You mean how they were discovered to be cheating, expelled, and had their wands snapped?" Alexander asked. The forced casualness in his voice sounded wrong to even him.

"Yes. You see, when they were brought into the Ministry, they began to scream about, well, I'm hesitant to say," Flitwick trailed off.

"Mudbloods?" Alexander guessed innocently. He was amused to see his professor flinch.

"Yes. They seemed to think it was their duty to punish muggle-borns. It didn't help their case that Albus overheard this," Professor Flitwick said.

Alexander shrugged. "I fail to see how this concerns me, professor. And that's the truth, sir. After all, I'd never dare tell you a lie," he finished, turning to stare directly into the half-goblin's eyes. Alexander scooped up his schedule and began to walk to class.

He never bothered to look behind him at his troubled teacher. He had no desire to comfort the foolish, nor would he ever allow himself to be the victim ever again. Alexander Dantes was done relying on others to keep him safe.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Gilderoy Lockhart's book series was perhaps the most impressive thing that Alexander had ever read in his short life. The man was either the most remarkable conman ever to live or one of the most dangerous wizards alive. In less than one minute, Alexander had his painfully obvious answer. He found his interest further waning after the grandstanding Lockhart insisted on doing nonstop. That it continued until the fool released Cornish Pixies upon the class was also of little note, Alexander had taken the prudent course of action of ducking beneath his desk and letting everyone else draw the pixie's attention. Once suitably distracted, he snuck out of the classroom with some of the more intelligent students, although that number was preciously small.

Nodding politely to the two Slytherin girls, Alexander immediately turned and left for his secret spot in the castle, eager to look over past tests and notes to see what people used to learn in the farce of a class. It'd be a better use of his time anyway.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

It was only a few days later that Hermione Granger found him in the library. Her eyes were slightly red, and she was once again without her two friends. Alexander idly wondered if she were rethinking her acquaintance with the pair, but figured it was unlikely.

"Hermione," he nodded when she approached his table, "care to join me?"

"Thank you," she whispered. She pulled out her Transfiguration homework and began to write out possible animate-to-inanimate transfigurations.

"Where are Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum?" Alexander asked after a few moments of silent work. He wanted to know if their study time was going to be interrupted.

Hermione smiled slightly at the joke. "Don't call them that, they're nice. They're still in detention for how they flew that car to the school."

Alexander had not heard about that, but he wasn't exactly listening to the gossip of the castle. Still, that sounded fascinating, and Hermione said it so casually that she might as been talking about the weather. Was she already bored with magic?

Deciding it wise not to ask that, he instead grunted and focused on his homework. The sooner he got this out of the way, the sooner he could look up how to make a car fly. Maybe a featherlight charm tied to some sort of propulsion? Weren't there spells that made gusts of wind? He noted his thoughts down on another piece of paper before focusing.

They worked quietly for a few minutes before Hermione quietly started sniffling. Alarmed, Alexander looked up to find a tear escaping her eye, one that Hermione hurriedly wiped away.

"Is everything okay, Hermione?" he asked. He might not be the most socially adept, but he knew distress when he saw it.

Hermione sniffed and gave him a watery smile. "I'm fine. It's just that braggart, Malfoy. The Gryffindor's were trying to have their Quidditch practice, and Slytherin's team interrupted them. Malfoy bought his way on the team, and then he said..."

She trailed off. Alexander placed his quill to the side and gave her his full attention. "Yes, he said what?"

"He called me a Mudblood," she mumbled.

Alexander patiently waited for her to continue. When she did not, he found himself slightly exasperated with her. "And that's it? Granted, he's twelve, but I expected a slightly better insult than that."

"He called me a Mudblood!" Hermione shouted. Madame Pince angrily hissed her silent. "It's a vulgar term!" she hissed at Alexander.

He rolled his eyes. "It's uncreative and plain, which says more about the pure-bloods using the term than it does us. Besides, if it offends you that much, insult him back."

"Insult him back?" she screeched. Madame Pince angrily shushed her silent once more and gave them both a warning look. "Why would I do that, won't it make things worse?" she whispered.

Alexander gave her a very unimpressed look. "He's already insulting you. Next, he'll move on physically bullying you. Do you really want to allow it to escalate to that point?"

"No!"

"Then fight back. Honestly, you're a Gryffindor, I'm surprised that wasn't your first response."

"I do not start fights!" Hermione protested.

"He started the fight. This would be you ending it. If you were smart, you'd end all future fights too," he commented, thinking about the five remaining bullies from his first year. They hadn't approached him yet, but he was ready.

"I will not become a bully! I will use logic and a cool head, and tell a professor what he is doing!" Hermione shouted, storming to her feet. Madame Pince hissed like an angry snake and began to move toward them. "And you should too! I thought you'd be able to relate to me, but I guess I thought wrong! You big, bully!"

Hermione stormed away, leaving Alexander to stew angrily. She wanted to trust a professor? Good luck with that, they'd always let him down. A shadow loomed over him, blotting out the candlelight.

"Madame Pince," he nodded his head, respectfully, "how was your summer?"

An angry frown crossed her face. "I didn't have to deal with any of you hooligans, which made it very pleasant. But you've disturbed me enough for this evening, so out!"

Alexander sighed but got to his feet. "Would you at least put the books to the side so I might find them easier tomorrow?"

She did not.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Hermione's words did hurt, as much as Alexander didn't like to admit it. He presumed too much, pushed too hard, and drove away the only person at Hogwarts who was willing to speak with him. Alexander tried to put it out of his mind, but he noticed when his eye kept being drawn to the Gryffindor tables at meals, or when they passed each other in the library. Feeling lonely once more, he buried himself in his studies.

Halloween came, and Alexander found himself sitting uncomfortably close to the staff table. Throughout the entire meal, he could feel Professor Flitwick's eyes on him, and Alexander made a pointed effort never to meet them. He had no desire to speak to his failure of a Head of House and resented the man trying to do so now after Alexander had already dealt with the bullies.

The other five bullies, Herbert Burke, Marvin Fawley, Argo Gibbon, Kevin Rowle, and Albert Tripe, were still an issue. Each had come after Alexander at some point, usually in the library or at meals to threaten him, but were unable to do more than lightly curse him. Alexander wished to pay them back in kind but was patient. He knew he could not act too hastily. Burke and Fawley, both in their last year at Hogwarts, were studying for exams Alexander was going to ensure they never took. And it would happen over Christmas break, while Alexander wasn't there to implicate himself.

The feast ended, and Alexander followed the hoard leaving the Great Hall. A not insignificant number of students followed the same hallways up Hogwarts; Ravenclaws and Gryffindors off to their towers, but a large number of students from Hufflepuff and Slytherin heading to the library to work on assignments. Alexander intended to go to his secret spot to study, he had an idea of carrying a library of books on him at all times, and he wanted to see how feasible the idea was. However, the crowd abruptly stopped.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!" Malfoy's high pitched voice could be heard from ahead. Alexander rolled his eyes but was surprised when Malfoy's comment seemed to excite the crowd. Craning his neck past a pair of Hufflepuffs, Alexander was surprised to see the first part of Malfoy's taunt written on a wall in blood. But underneath that hung Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, with a shocked Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley standing around her.

Curious despite himself, Alexander watched how professors appeared out of nowhere and descended on the three Gryffindors. Of the three, only Harry was pulled away by the professors, leaving a shell-shocked Hermione and Ron, and a silently gloating Draco Malfoy.

Alexander wanted to smash the idiot Slytherin's face into a wall.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Despite the excitement at Halloween, things settled down in Hogwarts. Harry was not found guilty of petrifying Filch's cat, and Draco wasn't punished for using a slur. Not that Alexander was surprised as the only thing the staff at Hogwarts seemed to care about was cheating on exams. He wagered he could commit murder and be given a slap on the wrist depending on who he killed.

Which was why Alexander was focusing his attention on breaking the copyrighting charms on the library books. While he normally wouldn't condone book theft, he found his desire to carry his own personal library around him at all times too overwhelming to ignore.

The issues were many, however. Breaking the charms was simple; a focused finite would be enough, Alexander just had to take care not to remove any other spells from the books as some were important to keeping them in good shape. There were spells that could conjure parchment, but they never lasted longer than a week at most, so he reasoned he'd need something a bit sturdier. Alexander also was aware of volume, mainly how he was going to store all of the copies in a small place. He initially tried shrinking charms but found while that worked on a one by one case, it quickly became bothersome when the shrinking charm failed unexpectedly, causing his pockets to explode. Which led to the last issue he found, and the one that was the most horrifying.

Wizards played around with expanded space charms like there were toys. The delicate spells lasted for a set amount of time and could be theoretically anchored using spells, but were all too easy to break. A mediocre wizard shooting sparks into an expanded room could accidentally snap the fragile connections, causing it to rapidly compress all of its contents into the original space. This would most likely explode in some manner as the pressure would build-up to the point where even stone would break. Another possibility was if the expanded space somehow became wrapped in on itself, creating a phenomenon where the area would seal itself shut and vanish entirely. More than one idiotic wizard trying to live in a mansion he made in his trunk disappeared this way, and it was why the charms weren't taught until their seventh year at the earliest.

The only thing about this whole subset of charms that made Alexander relax was that Hogwarts was the largest non-expanded castle in the world. Its size now made sense, as the Founders must have been aware of the dangers and sought to protect their school from some foolish child accidentally dispelling half of it. Alexander didn't doubt that there were expanded spaces in various parts of the school, but was thankful that none of the areas he used frequently were among them.

Still, he shelved the idea for his portable library for the time being. He didn't want a portable library so badly that it ran the chance of killing him.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Someone had the brilliant idea to start a Dueling Club at Hogwarts, and Alexander wanted to shake their hand.

He didn't care for magical combat, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say he didn't know enough about it to know he should care. A fact that could be blamed on two years of lackluster Defense professors, as well as a year being used as a punching bag. He was instead far more interested in the fact that he could begin the next part of his vengeance on seventh years, Burke and Fawley.

Both boys had signed up, boasting about their powers, and Alexander could not resist such a tempting opportunity, especially not after he read about a spell called the Confundus.

It was a simple spell that required a great deal of focus to cast successfully. While Alexander knew that mastery of this spell was far beyond him at this point, he just hoped he could do enough with it to make his plan viable.

The Great Hall was crowded. Professor's Lockhart and Snape were up on a stage of some sort, giving a speech before raising their wands at one another. While he didn't care much for either professor, Alexander hoped for a suitably long distraction while he cast his spell.

His hopes were for naught. Professor Snape threw Professor Lockhart across the stage with a single spell, sending his wand flying. While there was plenty of focus on the flailing professor, Alexander chose not to risk it. Fortunately, Professor Snape pulled through and pulled Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter onto the stage for an exhibition duel. Alexander readied his magic as the whole hall focused on the pair.

Alexander almost missed Draco summoning a snake, but he definitely didn't miss Harry hissing to it, or it hissing back. Banishing it from his thoughts, he focused intently on Burke and Fawley, standing a ways away from him.

"Confundo," he whispered, pushing his magic at his two targets. Alexander nearly groaned in pain at the effort; it felt as though his mind was splitting in two to effect both targets at once. A moment later, the pain cleared, and he could feel the magic settle on the two, although much weaker than he would have liked.

Turning his attention back to the duel, he was surprised to find Harry Potter's back retreating through the doors of the Great Hall, with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley close behind him. The students all around the hall begin to whisper about parseltongue, and how its only an ability found in dark wizards. Alexander almost rolled his eyes at the scared teenagers but kept an eye on Burke and Fawley, who were shooting each other heated looks.

_Here it comes,_ Alexander thought in glee. The Confundus Charm worked much better than he expected as what happened next brought all activity in the hall to a grinding halt.

Herbert Burke took Marvin Fawley's hand in his own and pulled him close. Many students began to whisper, nudging their neighbors and pointing to the spectacle, which only increased as Fawley wrapped his arms around Burke. Everything in the Great Hall fell deadly silent when the pair began to kiss.

Everyone, including and especially Alexander, was stunned into silence. His thoughts raced: _That wasn't what I wanted the spell to do at all! I wanted them to lower their inhibitions so they'd draw their wands, and in the charged atmosphere of the dueling hall, they'd fight, maybe even maim one another, ohhhhh. I lowered their inhibitions. They're not worried about anything so they, yup that's tongue._

Professor Snape was the first to regain his wits and stomp over to the two seventh years, using his wand to force them apart. He slashed his wand again, and a light hit both boys, conjuring a roll of parchment that listed what spells or potions were active on them. Professor Snape sneered.

"What is it, sir? Did somebody dose them with love potions?" Draco Malfoy asked eagerly, an odd look in his eyes. In Alexander's opinion, he looked far too interested in the answer. The two seventh years began to inch toward one another again.

Professor Snape sighed and used his wand to force Burke and Fawley apart once more, before casting another spell to dispell the Confundus. "Worse. They were hit with a mild Confundus, which means they weren't controlled but acting on their own free will. The Dueling Club is over, everyone return to your dorms."

"But Professor Snape, I could continue while you help these two fine young gentlemen!" Professor Lockhart protested. Snape sent him a withering look.

"This club is over. Everyone leave now."

As Alexander moved with the crowd, he wondered if he would get caught. However, Professor Snape seemed entirely disinterested in the parting students, focused intently on the two seventh years who were almost guiltily holding each other's hand. Maybe he needed to come up with something else?

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander did not need to come up with anything else.

While quite a few students were still fascinated with Potter's newly revealed dark ability, there were enough students who understood what happened with Burke and Fawley to pass out the truth to others. And Alexander could not have hoped for a better outcome than the one he got.

Late last night, both boys had been formally withdrawn from Hogwarts by their families, and were taken home and most certainly disowned. It had to do with Pure-blood prejudice against sexuality; there was intense social and familial pressure on ensuring your bloodline could pass on its magic. A gay son would never be able to do that and were often banished from their family for their gall to be attracted to the same sex. As horrible as it was all around, it suited Alexander's revenge well enough that he could focus on the final three fools who chose to bully him.

Alexander was briefly concerned someone would figure out he cast the Confundus Charm but found he had little to be concerned with. Finding the book of charms he found it in, he read how the Confundus was notorious for its fickle magic, it not only required great skill to cast, but its magic faded rapidly after the initial casting. Professor Snape only found dregs on both students and most likely knew he wouldn't find any more.

Which was why Alexander was not ashamed to throw himself a little party to celebrate ridding himself of over half his bullies. At least that's what he liked to pretend what that second piece of cake he ate was for. It's the small things; he decided, that you had to enjoy.

Unfortunately, it wasn't all good news. ALexander received word from his family that they were leaving for France for a business trip before the Hogwarts Express returned. His parents asked if it were possible for him to leave school early, or stay at school over the break, whichever he chose. He penned back that he would prefer to stay, and wished his family an enjoyable trip and holidays.

He didn't know what it was, but he felt lighter. He reasoned it had to do with how he enacted his vengeance on his tormentors. Duny and Hilliard were terrifying but had their right to cast magic taken from them. Burke and Rowle, who had an endless fascination with curses, but were now cast out of the Wizarding World. The final three, Argo Gibbon, Kevin Rowle, and Albert Tripe, were all still in his crosshairs but seemed subdued after another pair of their friends left them.

Briefly chuckling at the fact that the trio didn't have any idea he was the one behind all four of their friends being removed from Hogwarts, Alexander returned to his hidden spot. He was finally feeling safe at Hogwarts.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: Start of Year Two.

I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	4. Year 2 Part 2

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Christmas at Hogwarts was rather pleasant, despite the fear of attacks. But the Heir of Slytherin, whoever they were, didn't seem interested in disturbing the peace, well after it petrified Justin Finch-Fletchley and that weird ghost who hung around Gryffindor, before the holidays that is.

Despite being a Muggle-born, Alexander was supremely unbothered by the whole Heir of Slytherin business. After living the previous year in dread of confrontation, and the first half of this one plotting how to ruin two more bullies, Alexander didn't have the spare time or emotion to be scared. Now that his work for this year was over, he found himself relaxing enough to focus once more on his studies, burning through books at an unprecedented rate.

It was pleasant, the pursuit of magic without anything getting in the way. He enjoyed it, and for the first time since coming to Hogwarts, he felt like a Ravenclaw. Now, if he could just get a portable library up and running, life would be perfect.

It was a few days after term ended, and almost all of the students going home, that Alexander found himself entering the Hospital Wing. After the unpleasant trip first year, he had managed to avoid having to return, often cleaning his cuts and bandaging them. The only reason he was even here was that he had the misfortune of almost running into Professor Snape. The dour man decided he couldn't be bothered to walk to the Hospital Wing, and thus would have Alexander deliver a create of potions to the matron.

Alexander fumed but obeyed. It was fortunately only a small detour on his way to the library, and he wanted to get away from Professor Snape as fast as possible, slightly fearful that he would somehow deduce it was he who cast the Confundus and outed the two gay wizards. So he agreed.

Pushing open the doors to the Hospital Wing with his hip, Alexander looked around for the matron. Seeing nobody around, he called out, "Madame Pomfrey? Professor Snape gave me your potions!"

"Alexander?" Hermione's voice came from behind a curtained-off bed. Alexander carefully placed the potion create on an empty bed before walking closer. "Is that you?"

"Yeah. What are you doing here, Hermione?" he asked, his hand pulling back the curtain.

"No, wait!" she protested, but it was already too late.

Hermione Granger sat fitfully on the hospital bed, squeezed into an uncomfortable-looking nightgown. She looked fine if one were to dismiss the cat nose, ears, and fur she was covered with. A movement behind her alerted him that she also most likely possessed a tail.

"Wow. Is this a risk of the Animagus transformation? Can you move that tail at will?" Alexander asked, far too curious to be overly horrified. Hermione was sitting quietly in the Hospital Wing, which meant the process was most likely reversible.

"No, and yes! It's so weird," Hermione said. Her eyes narrowed, and Alexander noted that they had shifted to resemble a cat's.

"So you're some kind of werecat then? Do you yearn for bowls of warm milk and long naps?" Alexander asked. Hermione stilled, and the fur on her cheeks seemed to darken. "You do!"

"Stop!" Hermione cried, and it was filled with such childish outrage that he was reminded of his little brother Jack being tickled. Chuckling fondly, he raised his hands in surrender. "I'm not a werecat. I drank some Polyjuice Potion with cat hair in it."

Alexander digested that. Potions wasn't an overly tricky class, but he wasn't sure what effect cat hair would have on a Polyjuice Potion. He collapsed into a nearby chair.

"So is it permanent then?" he asked. Hermione shook her head.

"No, but it requires me to drink these bland Nullifying Potions every few hours. Professor Snape was quite cross he had to come back this break to brew them for me," she explained.

Alexander nodded, thinking that explained the man's unwillingness to return to the Hospital Wing. He wasn't happy about being here on his break, which Alexander found he could reluctantly respect. Didn't mean he liked being turned into his delivery boy, though.

"Did you finish your assignments? Or do the cat claws make it difficult to hold a quill?" he asked.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him, which looked decidedly odd since it was still human, her teeth too. "No, I can't grab anything. It's the worst! I can barely turn the pages to my books."

Alexander nodded in sympathy, knowing that would drive him crazy as well.

"Why are you being nice to me?" she suddenly asked in a small voice. "I said some rather unkind things to you the last time we spoke."

He shrugged. "You're allowed to have your opinions. Just because we don't agree on a course of action, doesn't mean I hate you for it. Besides, you're not cruel to me."

It was such a simple statement to say, but it was honest. Hermione smiled at him and opened her mouth to reply, but a loud crash interrupted them when the doors of the Hospital Wing were pushed open, slamming them into the wall. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley walked in.

"Who are you?" Harry Potter asked with confusion and suspicion on his face. Alexander's jaw tightened at the rude greeting.

"Alexander Dantes, Ravenclaw," he added when neither one showed signs of recognition. Harry nodded in satisfaction, but Ron gave him a dirty look.

"What does a bookworm want with Hermione? Looking to dissect her?" the redhead challenged. Alexander was unimpressed.

"Ron! Apologize," Hermione demanded. Alexander wasn't going to take that though; as his father said, you needed to stand up to bullies.

"Thought I'd start with Pure-blood brains actually. I hear they're tiny, even when compared to a pixie," Alexander shot back. Weasley's face turned as red as his hair.

"Yeah, well, no one wants you here! I heard your year mates don't even like you," Ron Weasley shouted.

Alexander thought he was over the actions of his year mates, but found the redhead's words to hurt far more than they should. He stood up. "Hope you feel better soon, Hermione."

"You don't have to go! Ron, apologize!" Hermione demanded, struggling to get out of the bed but her new cat-like features not cooperating.

"It's fine, Hermione. You have your friends, and they obviously don't want me here," Alexander said. The redhead actually nodded at that while Harry Potter looked away in discomfort. Ignoring Hermione's protests, Alexander left.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The next few weeks were slightly awkward for Alexander. Hermione kept trying to corner him in the library, either to talk to him or to apologize for Ron Weasley or both. Something about the situation made him burn with some unknown emotion, and he didn't know what. He wrote to his parents for advice, and his mother had excitedly written back about his first crush. His mother's excited handwriting only made him more determined to hide from Hermione and delay a confrontation.

Thankfully term started, and the rest of the students returned to the castle. The fear that had gripped the castle had diminished over the break, and students could be heard laughing in the halls once more. It would have been pleasant to join in, but Alexander knew he had no friends, just books. And what books they were.

In his quest to learn more about parseltongue, he found a few books discussing language learning spells. Parseltongue was beyond them, unfortunately, as it was an entirely magical language that could not be replicated. However, the spells he did find made it easier to train your tongue to form foreign sounds more easily, and when paired with a translation spell, which had many flaws and limitations, it allowed one to learn a spell through immersion slowly. They were incapable of complex sentences, but Alexander would always be able to ask for help in finding a bathroom if he were in France.

In another book, he found a reference to a ritual that witches and wizards could do to learn a language perfectly. Unfortunately, it required for said witch or wizard to eat the tongue of a native speaker. But since this was considered a minor ritual, it could be done repeatedly, and if the tongue's original owner knew multiple languages, you would learn every language they understood. While very disgusted by the whole concept, Alexander reluctantly noted it down in case he ever needed it.

But the real find of his excursion was a slim, unmarked book that he found shoved behind the language learning texts. It was a handwritten account on various mind magics and how they affected different magical and non-magical beings, and it was fascinating to read. It talked more on the Confundus Spell, and how a perfectly cast one was almost as dangerous as the Imperius Curse, which was one of the three Unforgivable Spells, in the Wizarding World. It spoke of love potions, truth curses, truth serums, and all the other magical effects that could target the mind. And most importantly of all, it talked about how to stop them.

Ever since he cast the Confundus on Burke and Rowley, Alexander had been very concerned that someone else could do the same to him. This book held the answer, mentioning a magical skill known as Occlumency that any half-decent witch or wizard should master, and how it could be used to defend the mind. And more importantly, it included basic instructions.

Alexander began immediately. He read and reread, and even read the chapter one more time just to be safe. While the easiest way to practice Occlumency was through repeated exposure to a piece of mind magic, there were none that felt safe enough for Alexander to trust, let alone use, on himself. So he would take the long, slow road of doing it through meditation alone.

It would be quite a bit of work for such a specific skill, years even, but it could be done. The book warned against foolish witches and wizards thinking that Occlumency would give them impenetrable minds, perfect recall, or avatars and guardians to protect their minds. It was just a shield, a magical one around their thoughts, but a shield nonetheless.

And Alexander eagerly wanted one.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

It was only a few weeks into April that Alexander came across Luna Lovegood, a first-year in Ravenclaw, wandering around at night. He was shocked by her lack of footwear, as the stones of Hogwarts were hard and cold to the touch. He would know, he spent far too many nights laying on them last year.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Luna didn't seem to be cursed or sleepwalking.

"Oh, hello. I'm quite well; I'm just chasing the Flopswarts. They seem to be particularly aggressive against smiles," she said, before frowning at him. "They seem to avoid you."

Unsure or not if that was an insult, or if she was cursed, Alexander tried again. "And your shoes? Did these Flopswarts take them?"

"Oh, no. That was the Nargles. Mischievous little things, they like to take things to make themselves feel like they belong," she airly said, her large, owl-like eyes blinking slowly.

Alexander grew uncomfortable. It sounded like Luna was being bullied, in a different manner than he was, but bullied nonetheless. Knowing how useless Professor Flitwick is, he decided to offer his help.

"I can help you, you know," he started, but Luna cut off.

"Find the Nargles? No, they always find me."

"No, I can help you stop them, the bullies," he clarified, afraid she'd mistake his offer of help for a creature hunt. She blinked at him slowly, one eye at a time.

"I'm not being bullied," she finally said.

He sighed. "It's fine, Luna. I was bullied during my first year too. They wouldn't stop, though, so I had to make them stop."

She began to shake her head frantically. "I'm not being bullied," she repeated, slightly more firm, almost frantically.

Alexander realized she was scared and tried to encourage her. "You need to stand up to bullies, Luna. Or they'll never give you a moment's rest otherwise."

"No, thank you for your offer, though. I hope you have a pleasant evening!" Luna cried, before hurriedly skipping away, heedless to the cold temperature of the stone floor on her bare feet.

Alexander scowled, but deep down, he knew that there was no helping those who wouldn't help themselves. He just hoped that her bullies were kinder than his own.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

It was only a few weeks later that something happened that shocked the entire school. Hermione Granger and Penelope Clearwater were found petrified, outside the library. Suspicion wasn't on Harry Potter for once, as it was well known that he was friends with the muggle-born, but now everyone was worried: who was the real Heir of Slytherin?

The fear became so bad that the school governors suspended Dumbledore from his position as Headmaster, allowing Professor McGonagall to step up temporarily. Which explained why the students were now being shepherded around like herds of cats. Not that Alexander would ever say that to her face; he was rather attached to living and wasn't willing to part with it just yet.

But as a side effect of Hermione being petrified, Alexander found himself doing something he never thought he'd do for anyone, let alone someone whose friends were antagonistic toward him: He was making copies of his notes and writing down each classes assignments. He knew Hermione well enough to know that when she was finally revived, she'd be frazzled by how many assignments she missed. So he figured he'd make it slightly easier on her.

His parents were of no help during this time. His mother kept writing about her darling boy's first crush, while his father seemed to promise something called The Talk when he came home. They always talked, didn't they?

Why were adults so weird?

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The next few weeks passed quickly, in a haze of studying for his final exams, as well as researching whatever magic interested him. Despite not being able to learn the subjects until the next year officially, Alexander had made extensive studies into Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, finding the topics fascinating and very beneficial to his other coursework.

A few days prior, he had accidentally turned in an assignment to Professor Flitwick that had the arithmetic formula for the Color-Changing Charm fully drawn out on the back. He hadn't even realized until he received the assignment back today, Professor Flitwick's tidy handwriting complimenting it. Despite his negative feelings about the tiny professor, Alexander couldn't help but feel pleased by the acknowledgment. Regardless of the source, it felt like he belonged at Hogwarts and in Ravenclaw.

A silver light streaked through the Charms classroom and knelt next to Professor Flitwick. The students looked on in interest as he seemed to listen to the insubstantial spell, which Alexander belatedly realized was a spectral cat. It dissipated once its message was delivered, and Professor Flitwick straightened his posture, before speaking to the class.

"Attention, please. Please pack your bags so that I may escort you back to your dormitories. Hufflepuff students, a prefect will be along in a moment to escort you to the basement. Ravens, with me."

The students obediently packed, but one blond Hufflepuff asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

"Professor Flitwick? What was that cat? It was lovely!"

Not quite how Alexander would have asked it, but it did the trick. "It was a Patronus, Ms. Abbott. Potent magic, but most witches and wizards find it beyond them to do. Now please pack your bag, we must make haste," Professor Flitwick began to flick his wand, sending the belongings of a few slow students flying into their bags.

In short order, Alexander and the other Ravenclaws found themselves herded into their common room with the rest of their House. As he milled around near the entrance, Alexander watched as the room filled with curious students, all wondering why they were there. Professor Flitwick cleared his voice, and somehow the sound carried throughout the room.

"Please remain in the common room. The other professors and I must see to a matter of security, and we cannot worry about any lost students. Thank you." Professor Flitwick vanished through the entrance, which closed with a soft click.

The students began to talk excitedly about what this was all about, and many different theories were bandied about. Alexander was interested in none of these as he saw something that made his blood boil:

Three older girls were standing over Luna Lovegood and pushing her around.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Despite how ignored he was by his own house, Alexander knew who the three girls were. Cho Chang, Marietta Edgecombe, and Hannah Roarke were the culprits, the first two only a little older than himself, but the last preparing to graduate. Alexander made to intercept them.

"Look at Looney, with no friends. Might as well go home," Marietta taunted.

"Why stay when you're unwanted?" Hannah asked. Cho Chang tossed her long hair next to her.

"You'll never be beautiful. You'll never be skilled with a wand. You're no better than a crazy muggle, really."

Alexander reached the group. "Everything alright there, Luna?" he asked.

All four girls turned to look at him in surprise. "Dantes? What are you doing here?" Marietta asked.

"I'm a Ravenclaw; this is my tower too," he gritted out. "The real question is, what are you doing with Luna?"

Hannah shrugged and carelessly draped an arm over Luna's shoulders. "Nothing! We're good friends, Looney and I. Aren't we?" she asked, shaking the trembling first year under her arm purposefully.

"Friends," Luna parroted. Alexander's jaw tightened.

"Luna, you don't have to stay with them if you don't want to," he tried to offer.

"Don't try to take our friend just because you're friendless!" Cho shouted. The rest of House Ravenclaw took note of their corner.

"Yeah, just because you don't have any friends, doesn't mean you can take ours," Marietta added.

Alexander ignored them and focused on Luna, who was looking on in fear. "Luna, you have to remember to stand up for yourself, don't let others push you around."

"I've heard enough," Hannah said sharply. Her wand lashed out, and a bludgeoning hex smashed into Alexander's stomach, throwing him backward. "Think you can take our friend away because you're lonely? Pathetic. Go back to the muggle world, and leave the Wizarding World to real witches and wizards."

Alexander gasped on the ground, trying to catch the breath that was knocked out of him by the hex. He couldn't say a thing to defend himself as the verbal abuse continued.

"Yeah, you're not wanted here!" Cho Chang parroted. Alexander almost wanted to scowl at the stupid girl. She never did have an original thought.

But it was Marietta who angered him the most. "Pathetic little boy like you, thinking he's a real man. You're nothing!"

She pulled out her wand and also cast a bludgeoning hex at him, but he was prepared this time. Alexander whipped his dead wand up and cast the most basic shield charm, a Protego, blocking it. The crowd of eager Ravenclaws looked on in surprise at a second-year blocking a third-year's spell so smoothly. Alexander slowly rose to his feet, staring Marietta down, before allowing his shield to drop.

He was all too aware of the eyes on him, but it was Luna's eyes that hurt Alexander the most. All he wanted to do was help her, give her a chance to get out from underneath her bullies' thumbs, but now she was looking at him in fear. Not of the situation, but of him. And that hurt more than any hex.

Alexander turned his back on the four witches and made his way to the entrance. A prefect made a half-hearted attempt at blocking him but backed after Alexander stared at him blankly. As he stepped through the doorway, he knew that he would enter Ravenclaw Tower only once more for the rest of his Hogwart's studies.

And that would be to gather his things tomorrow morning.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander wandered through Hogwart's empty halls, enjoying the peaceful silence that covered them. He knew it was only because of the fear that gripped it, the fear of the Heir of Slytherin and their terrible beast, but he couldn't help but enjoy the solitude. It's funny how life works out sometimes, that just when he was finally free to make friends, he found himself pulling away for his own peace of mind.

Hours passed, and he finally started making his way to his hidden study area, soon to be permanent bedroom, when Professor Dumbledore's voice echoed through the halls of Hogwarts. This was doubly surprising when Alexander remembered the man had been suspended for some time now and had shown no signs of coming back soon. Alexander shook it off, though, and focused on the message.

"The Chamber of Secrets has been sealed and Slytherin's monster slain. The Mandrake Restorative will be administered in just a few minutes, so would you all join me in the Great Hall for a Welcome Back Feast?" There was a slight pause. "Pajamas are acceptable attire."

Alexander couldn't help roll his eyes as he turned around and headed to the Great Hall. While he didn't care to attend, he rather liked the idea of seeing Hermione up and about, excited about it even. He wondered if she would notice the stack of scrolls he had left on her bedside table, of their past assignments, and his notes.

A few minutes later, he found himself sitting close to the doors of the Great Hall, the Ravenclaws on all sides ignoring him as much as possible. Ignoring them right back, Alexander kept one eye trained on the doors, waiting for them to part and to reveal the petrified walking on their own power.

The doors cracked open, and the first few petrified students entered, making their ways to their house tables, where they were welcomed back with cheers of applause. Penelope Clearwater entered next, and the Ravenclaws screamed themselves hoarse welcoming her back. But it was the girl following her, with the bushy brown hair that drew Alexander's eye.

Hermione Granger walked into the Great Hall, her eyes darting about wildly. They fell upon Alexander, and a massive smile crossed her face. Alexander felt one forming in reply on his face, and it only grew when she rushed forward. He tried to stand but found his legs tangled in his robes, causing him to knee the heavy wooden table in front of him painfully. Nobody noticed his plight as Hermione reached him. Alexander opened his mouth to speak.

"Oh, Harry! And Ron! You solved it! And you wrote down all my missing assignments for me!" Hermione exclaimed as she rushed past Alexander to hug her two friends. The trio began to chat excitedly about the plumbing of all things, leaving Alexander to his thoughts.

Alexander didn't understand why it felt like part of his heart was dying, but it did. He freed his legs from his robes, rose from the table, and exited the Great Hall silently. It wasn't until Alexander reached the privacy of the Entrance Hall that he allowed the tears to fall from his eyes.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The rest of the term passed without note, and the ride back on the Hogwarts Express even less so. Alexander was finally home, but after almost a year away from the house he grew up in, he felt like a stranger. His room, the place of so many happy memories, now felt like it belonged to someone else. He wondered who he was.

A soft knock on his door stirred Alexander from his thoughts. "Enter!" he called out.

His father, Adrian, entered the room. "Hey, Alex, doing alright? Your mom and brothers were looking forward to a reunion with you."

"Can we talk, dad?" Alexander hesitated. "About a girl?" he clarified.

Adrian gave his son a fond smile before gesturing for him to sit on the bed. His father joined him a moment later, collapsing on it hard enough to make the entire bed shift.

"Okay, shoot. Tell me all about her," Adrian told his son.

So Alexander did. He told his father about Hermione Granger and how they met on the Hogwarts Express at the start of the year. He spoke of their first discussion in the library and how she wasn't willing to stand up to bullies, and how she called him one when he advised her to. And Alexander told his father about Hermione's polyjuice accident, how he tried to keep her company before her friends interrupted.

"And then when she was stuck in the Hospital Wing at the end of the year, petrified, I made extra copies of my notes and wrote down the homework assignments she missed, and her friends let her believe they did that for her. I don't know why it hurts," Alexander said. He didn't know why it was so difficult to speak, and he hated it.

Adrian sighed before wrapping an arm around his son. "It sounds like to me that you had your first crush and heartbreak, Alex."

"Heartbreak? Like love? Like you and mom?" Alexander asked. His father shook his head, chuckling softly.

"Not quite. It might have become that one day, but crushes are much more fragile than love. And they hurt just as much," Adrian explained. "Even though it hurts now, one day you'll meet someone who will appreciate you for who you are, and what you're willing to do for them. That they'll care as much about you as you do them. But I don't think that's now."

Despite the truth he could hear in his father's words, Alexander still felt like his heart was burning in his chest. The fire was consuming everything, leaving a painfully numb hole in its place. "I don't know what to do," Alexander whispered.

"You live. You keep trying. Do not close yourself off to the world because one or ten or even a hundred people hurt you. But do learn from this, learn the most painful lesson of all: Be careful who you give your heart to."

Alexander nodded and dried his tears on his sleeves. "Thanks, dad."

Adrian wrapped his arms tightly around his son. "Always. When you're up for it, get unpacked and come downstairs. We're taking you all to Paris next week for David's birthday. He's been excited to go to Disneyland for weeks now. You still need to tell me what you want to do for your birthday in August, by the way."

Alexander smiled. "I don't care. Just being with you guys is what I want."

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: End of Year Two.

I hope you're enjoying the story!


	5. Year 3 Part 1

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The Hogwarts Express was at it once more, chugging away northward, pulling its precious cargo of magical children to their education. Many of the carriages were full of reunions, greetings, and the like, but the topic of conversation for all was the same: The recent escape of one Sirius Black from Azkaban, the only wizard to ever achieve it.

It was big news, even months after the fact, and all were curious about why he had done it and where the dark wizard would go. Almost all universally agreed that the deranged wizard would hunt down Harry Potter at some point, to enact revenge for his master's demise. At least, that was the popular theory running up and down the train.

But near the end of the train, next to the baggage cart, was one compartment whose inhabitants were not talking about the recent escapee, or how it would affect the coming school year. Only one occupant was sitting within, staring out at the passing countryside, glum, for his summer had not gone how he had hoped.

Alexander Dantes, third-year Ravenclaw and muggle-born, was reflecting on the unpleasant summer he just had. His younger brother David turned eleven just after the holidays began, and the young boy was filled to the brim with excitement. The reason was simple: He believed that he would be receiving a Hogwarts Letter like his older brother Alexander did.

David's birthday came and went, and the little boy reasoned that Hogwarts would send his letter with Alexander's so as to save the owl a trip. He somehow maintained an excited energy throughout the holidays until the third week of August when Alexander's letter arrived, bearing his new book list and a permission slip for his parents to sign.

David eagerly snatched the letters from his hands and read through it, looking for his name and a welcoming message. He found nothing. David flipped the parchment over, reasoning that perhaps they wrote it on the back but found not a single blot of ink. He didn't understand.

Alexander's father Adrian stayed behind that year with David and Jack, while his mother, Cynthia, took him to Diagon Alley for his supplies. When they returned, David gave him such a look of anger and betrayal that it felt like a physical slap to the face. That his younger brother refused to speak to him for the rest of the summer holidays, hurt even more.

How could he explain the truth to his younger brother, Alexander wondered. That the magical world was a beautiful place of impossibilities but filled with so much hatred and scorn for impure blood, their blood. That he would be hated for something he could not control, that he would be treated like dirt by fools?  
Alexander didn't know. He also hoped, although he felt an immense amount of guilt for it, that Jack would not receive an invitation to Hogwarts in two years. It would be the height of cruelty to both of his brothers, in two different ways, and he feared it would tear the family apart.

He shivered. Despite the earliness of the day, the sun had somehow vanished, taking with it its warmth. His breath came out in little puffs of fog, and as Alexander looked out the window, he was surprised to see ice forming on the glass. The Hogwarts Express suddenly screeched to a halt, throwing him back in his seat, and the lights cut off.

A darkness seemed to drift outside the window, and as it neared Alexander grew colder. It passed, but the warmth did not return, instead only intensifying. With mounting horror, he realized that whatever was causing this was boarding the train.

Dark shapes seemed to float past the window, and with each one a fresh wave of chill swept over him. Alexander cupped his hands before him and used his wandless magic to create bluebell flames. They flickered feebly in the cold, but their warmth helped Alexander recover a little. His spellcasting seemed to excite one of the dark shapes as it halted before the door, reaching out with one ghastly shaped hand to open it.

A blinding light appeared in the corridor, chasing the dark shape away. The light brought a comforting warmth that chased away the perversive chill, allowing Alexander's handheld flames to warm him up rapidly. He dispelled them a moment later as the overhead lights turned back on and the train began to move.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

It was during the Welcoming Feast that Headmaster Dumbledore told the students what the foul creatures were. Dementors, put in place to guard Hogwarts against Sirius Black. They did not care friend from foe and would attack anyone who exited Hogwarts or Hogsmeade after hours. Alexander was not alone with the phantom shivers at that announcement, and he suddenly felt less eager to visit Hogsmeade this year.

The feast was subdued this year, although not without cause. Still, Alexander ate his fill before leaving, having no desire to stay behind with his housemates, or even to stay with them in Ravenclaw Tower. Outside of meals and classes, he would not associate with them at all, after the events of the last two years.

Which was why Alexander made his way to his secret rooms. He had long since cleared the failed necromantic creations from it, turning it into an excellent study area. There was a pile of cushions he used as bedding, and while lumpy, it was enough to let him sleep. And most importantly of all were the weak wards and spells he cast upon it to hide and protect him from curious eyes.

This last fact was important because when Alexander stepped into his private space, he was surprised to find a small creature using magic to dust. It wore a clean pillowcase and looked quite similar to a goblin, but seemed less threatening overall. It must have been the lack of sharp teeth and cruel eyes.

"Oh! Sir has returned before Mopsy could finish the cleaning! Forgive Mopsy, young sir!" the little creature exclaimed. The name for the creature trickled into Alexander's mind.

"You're a House Elf, right? Mopsy, was it?" Alexander asked. While his heart was racing from surprise, he reasoned he wasn't in danger. Yet.

Mopsy nodded her head like a bobble-head. "Yes, sir! Mopsy be a Hogwarts House Elf. I's be making these rooms clean for sir since sir claimed them!"

Alexander nodded in understanding. "And you haven't told anyone I'm here? You don't have to report to anyone?"

"No, sir! House Elves be keeping silent since we like troublemakers. They always make mischief we can all enjoy!" the House Elf explained.

Alexander digested that. "So you go around cleaning up after wizards? Why were so many rooms filled with old experiments, notes, and things?"

Mopsy shrugged. "Sometimes wizards be asking House Elves to leave things be. We don't mind."

"Right. Well, thank you for cleaning my space for me. I appreciate it," Alexander said. Mopsy bowed low.

"Oh, young sir is too kind. You be calling Mopsy if you need anything!" the strange creature said. It bowed low again before disappearing with a pop.  
Alexander looked at the spot in amusement for a moment. "What a strange little creature."

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The first class that Alexander went to that year was Ancient Runes with Professor Babbling. While the subject was endlessly fascinating to him, he was very disappointed to discover they would be doing nothing but memorizing the runes he had learned in his first year for the next three months. They would be copying, translating, and charting out their historical significance throughout wizarding history before they even began to learn how to carve the runes.

For someone like Alexander, who had been forced to self-study the subject for his own protection since his first year, it was immensely disappointing. Still, one thing of note did happen in the class. Alexander did something he had never done before: He raised his hand to ask a question.

"Professor," Alexander began, mindful that he needed to be polite, "how are runic languages created?"

Professor Babbling almost smirked. She looked at the class, a mixture of all four houses on account of how small the class size was. "Does anybody know the answer?" she asked.

No one answered her, not even Hermione Granger, who looked quite vexed she did not know the answer. Professor Babbling did smile now but focused on Alexander.

"That's because nobody does. There is a standing reward among those who hold Rune Masteries to induct anyone who can provide and prove the answer. It's a question that's been asked for centuries, and the answer has always eluded us. Considering how diverse the known runic languages are, it should not be difficult to answer, yet it somehow is. Perhaps someone in this class will figure it out. I'll point out that a Rune Mastery trumps an Outstanding in your N.E.W.T.s any day of the week."

The class buzzed excitedly, but Alexander already knew none of them would discover the answer. They were novices, less than novices, and he included himself in that. Professor Babbling's words were just meant to encourage them to study harder. Still, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious as to the answer to his question.

Arithmancy, in comparison, was a letdown. Professor Vector, a woman who neared Professor McGonagal in age, started the class with a muggle math test of all things. It might have been written on a piece of parchment, but Alexander knew enough Algebra to recognize the formulas written down. He suffered through filling it out and turned it in with the rest of the class, who were all looking lost.

Professor Vector began to lecture as she viciously marked wrong answers on the tests before her. She seemed to take a fiendish delight in marking the students down but seemed to stumble partway through her monologue on the history of Arithmancy. She stopped speaking while she rechecked an assignment, and Alexander felt a cold chill run down his spine as she looked straight up into his eyes.

"Mr. Dantes. I had wondered if I would see you in my class. I had hoped not, but we rarely get what we want in life. Still, I will not abide with cheating. Ten points from Ravenclaw. Filius and Minerva warned the staff about you years ago, but I see time has not improved you," she muttered darkly, before returning to the tests.

Alexander felt himself trembling in rage at the accusation but chose to remain silent. His peers already thought him a liar, and arguing with a professor would just land him in detention. He'd settle for learning the subject and ignoring his classmates, who were shooting him glances from all around the room.

"Ah, Ms. Granger!" Professor Vector crowed. "This is exactly what I expected, my dear. Still plenty of room for improvement but a good start. You'll go far," she said, giving Hermione a warm smile.

Alexander suppressed a sigh as the lesson continued. Well, at least this day couldn't get worse.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The only other notable class Alexander had that week was Defense Against the Dark Arts, with the new teacher, Professor Lupin. He had shaggy brown hair, numerous little scars over his face and hands, and his clothes were rather shabby, but he seemed friendly enough. Lupin was leading the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw class to the previously unknown Hogwarts Staffroom, for a lesson on boggarts. Supposedly it was a big hit with the Gryffindor and Slytherin class that finished it earlier in that day.

The lesson and spell were easy enough; Ridiculous didn't require great magical strength, just a funny image in mind to be used as a template. While Alexander was surprised they would jump into a practical class this early in the year, he reasoned Lupin was a more hands-on teacher, which could explain the many scars he had. Lasting reminds of past misdeeds and all that.

So Alexander lined up with the other students, curious and filled with trepidation as to what his great fear would be. The line advanced far too quickly for anyone's liking, the boggart rapidly turning into spiders, snakes, even a muggle lorry that was speeding toward them. But then it was Alexander's turn.

The boggart swirled, and Alexander readied his wand, which was mainly just a prop to hide his wandless casting. The boggart began to stabilize and solidify, finally assuming a shape that Alexander dreaded with all his being.

His brother David looked back at him, his face and eyes burning with hatred as he glared at Alexander. "I hate you, Alex. I wish you'd never come home," the boggart said. The voice was exactly like David's.

Alexander froze. He could feel his heart dropping in his chest and his blood turning icy in his veins. Fake-David's words echoed unpleasantly around his head, and it wasn't until he heard snickering from behind him that he remembered where he was.

His jaw tightened. Alexander raised his wand and slashed it violently forward, forgetting to say an incantation entirely and just throwing raw magic and fury at the boggart. Fake-David's eyes bulged dramatically for just a moment before the boggart violently exploded into wisps, dissolving into nothing and shocking the classroom into silence.

"Ten points to Ravenclaw," Professor Lupin said, his voice slightly stunned. He shook his head and spoke firmer. "For finding an alternative way to defeat a boggart. Well done."

Alexander said nothing as he grabbed his book bag. His peers quickly parted before him, and he left the room, burning with shame and fury and loss.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander made his way down to Hogsmeade, curious about what an entirely magical village would be like. Despite the chill of the Dementors, it was a pleasant walk, which helped distract him from how utterly awful he felt right now.

Despite understanding the material and completing all of the assignments to perfection, Professor Vector refused to grade him fairly. She had joined Professor McGonagall as his least favorite professor, as neither woman bothered to read the assignments he turned in, merely marking them Troll and passing them back. It was only his practicals in Transfiguration that kept that grade up, but he had no such luck with Arithmancy, which was a theory-based course. It wouldn't be until his seventh year that they began to touch on practical uses, which meant Alexander was screwed until then.

Every lesson so far, Professor Vector would give Alexander a nasty look before beginning the lecture. At first, she'd call on him to answer various questions, thinking there would be no way he could know the answer. Her face when he correctly answered math problems on the board, in front of everyone, would always remain a treasured memory of his. Unfortunately, it only drove her to believe even more firmly that he was cheating somehow, and continued to call on him.

After a few weeks of being able to answer correctly at their basic level, Vector began throwing more complicated problems in. Alexander had never been more thankful he was still learning non-magical studies on his own time than he was then. Due to her persistent need to prove he was cheating somehow, he was advancing his math skills far beyond his year mates, who looked lost during lessons now.

It came to an end last week when her whole personality seemed to flip, and she ignored him entirely. She wouldn't speak to him or make eye contact, and the corner he sat in was treated as if it didn't exist. She continued to mark his homework and exams as failing, but it was the best Alexander could hope for at this time.

Which led to him leaving the castle. He needed the fresh air and to get away from his fellow students who wouldn't stop staring at him for "Professor Vector's Meltdown" as it was being called. But as he walked the streets of Hogsmeade, he felt even more disappointed.

Were it not for the fact that he could see an adult wizard levitating a sign onto a building, Alexander would not even know this was a magical settlement. It wasn't even something that could blend in with the non-magical world, as it was extremely dated in design and layout, and the occupants looked as if they belonged two hundred years in the past.

Sitting outside of a shabby-looking pub, Alexander pulled out a stray piece of parchment and began to sketch what a real magical village looked like in his mind. The buildings floated around one another in rings, their orbits slow and lazy. Figures walked on bridges of light, or even outright flew to where they needed to be. It was a ridiculous image, but Alexander found himself enchanted with the idea, and continued to sketch more. A shadow fell over his parchment.

"Alexander? What are you doing?" Hermione Granger asked, looking down at his paper in puzzlement.

He stuffed it into his pocket. "Just drawing a thought I had, why?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, I meant leaning against the Three Broomsticks. You'd probably have an easier time drawing inside on a hard surface."

Alexander shrugged and opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a distinctly unwelcome voice. "Hey, who are you talking to, Hermione?"

Ron Weasley stepped up beside her and looked down at Alexander. The redhead put his hand on Hermione's arm and smirked down at Alexander.

"Ron, you know Alexander! He's in Ravenclaw, you met him last year," Hermione gently reminded. She made no effort to remove Ron's arm, and Alexander felt his stomach twist unpleasantly.

"Oh yeah, I remember now," Ron said, a smirk growing on his face. He looked at Alexander with vicious eyes. "The guy who is jealous Professor Vector likes you more!"

Of all the things Alexander expected Ron Weasley to say, that was not one of them. "What?" he asked.

Ron nodded eagerly. "Yeah, because she caught you cheating on the first day of classes. It was all over the school. You should have known better than trying to overshadow Hermione. She's brilliant."

Any scolding on Hermione's mind faded as she blushed red at the compliment. "Oh, stop it, Ron."

Alexander felt like he was going to be sick. He rose, pushing past the pair, and walking away.

"Where are you going?" Hermione's voice called out. Alexander didn't stop.

"Leave him be, Hermione. He has to settle on being second best to you," Ron Weasley boasted from behind him.

Alexander couldn't hear anymore. He didn't want to hear anymore, he just wanted to be alone.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

If Alexander ever found Sirius Black, he was going to murder him with his bare hands.

When he got back to Hogwarts, all he wanted was to be alone, with no one to bother or annoy him. Ignoring the Halloween Feast entirely, he went to the library to distract himself with anything, grabbing the first book that caught his eye and burying himself in it. It took hours for his stomach to settle, but it eventually did, and he realized with some amusement he was reading the book upside down.

He would have stayed there longer had he and the other students not been shepherded out by Madame Pince, who looked quite cross at having to leave her library, before escorting them to the Great Hall. Apparently, Sirius Black had attacked the Fat Lady, the portrait guarding Gryffindor Tower, and the whole school was to be searched. Which lead to Alexander being trapped, all night, in a room with the very people he was hoping to avoid.

Alexander dragged his sleeping bag as far away from Harry, Hermione, and Ron as he possibly could and spent the night staring up at the roof of the Great Hall. He watched comets and planets whirl through the starry sky, galaxies forming and dispersing over millennia. He found himself filled with a painful longing to sail among the stars, exploring new worlds and leaving this one behind.

Between one thought and the next, he slipped into his dreams.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The next time Alexander walked into the Defense classroom, he was surprised to find Professor Snape standing behind Professor Lupin's desk instead of the drab man.

"Professor," Alexander said, nodding his head respectfully. Professor Snape sneered but otherwise ignored him as more students arrived.

The class began, and many of the students, Alexander included, were confused by Professor Snape's sudden switch of their curriculum, choosing instead to teach them about werewolves. Alexander dutifully took down notes, wondering why the sudden change in topics, before focusing on the attributes that usually signify a werewolf in human form.

Untidy and excessive body hair, a slight curvature of the canine teeth, fresh cuts and bruises around the full moon, and healed scars everywhere. Professor Snape added a few more, unofficial traits, such as the inability to hold a job, shabby clothes, and body odor, but Alexander understood why the professor changed their lesson:

Because their regular Defense professor was a werewolf.

Alexander found himself surprisingly unbothered by this information. He reasoned that at least Headmaster Dumbledore was aware of it and chose to allow the students to be exposed to said werewolf. That Professor Snape was here today, proved that lessons on the full moon would be covered. Which meant it was allowed, or nobody cared enough to put a stop to it.

Alexander shrugged. It's not like it would impact his life.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander's second trip to Hogsmeade was no better than the first. Other than the Three Broomsticks and a dirty looking pub, the only real attractions were the shops, and they mostly catered to ridiculous things, like jokes or overpriced books. Overpriced, in this case, meaning Alexander would need to sell his parent's house to afford them.

So he instead chose to wander between the houses, just getting a general idea of the village's layout. It was an exercise in futility, as there weren't even stone roads to follow, but Alexander spent his time trying to understand the design. It seemed like any time a wizard wanted to build a house, they just found an empty plot of land, put up a few walls, and then claimed it as their own. It was utterly absurd.

He turned a corner and found an actual rubbish bin, overflowing with trash. The fact that wizards would throw away this much trash, instead of recycling or vanishing it boggled the mind. Actually, with Vanishing Charms, it was all the more practical. So focused was he on the concept of wizarding waste, that Alexander almost didn't notice the woman digging through the bin.

"Boo," she said when he finally made eye contact. "What, never seen a woman dig through the trash before?"

"No," Alexander replied.

"Well, take a picture, it'll last you longer!" The woman giggled to herself. Alexander examined her scars and hairy arms and hands. He belatedly realized that she was similar to Professor Lupin.

"You're a werewolf, aren't you?" he asked, curious.

"Yes, sir, little wizard. And judging by the fact that you haven't run away screaming yet, I'm going to guess you're not a Pure-blood. Are you a halfsies or a mud puddle?"

Taking a moment to decipher that, Alexander answered, "Mudblood."

She nodded approvingly. "So was I. Until the big baddie bit me. Had to leave Hogwarts, I did! But I stayed close. The forest was kind to me..." she trailed off, lost in her thoughts.

So she was a muggle-born who went to Hogwarts before she was bitten. Alexander didn't notice she was closer until her smell overpowered him and made his eyes water.

"Boo!" she shouted, trying to scare him. Alexander didn't move. "Ah, you're a brave one. But I see blue. So maybe you're a smart one?"

She trails off thoughtfully, looking at Alexander carefully. "Come find me in a few years, and I'll turn you. Give you a good home; keep you safe!" She cackled.

"I have a home, with my family in the non-magical world," Alexander said.

She gave him a sad smile before turning and walking away. "So did I."

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Shaken for many reasons, Alexander signed up to go home at Christmas time. Despite how things were between him and David, Alexander desperately wanted to see his family again and remind himself that they were okay. Which was why, a few days before Christmas, he found himself stepping off the Hogwarts Express and eagerly hugging his mother.

"It's good to see you again, Alex," Cynthia, his mother, said. She wrapped her arms around him tightly. "Everyone is going to be so pleased to see you again."

"Even David?" Alexander asked, surprised. He felt his hope falling at the sad expression on his mother's face.

"He still hasn't gotten over it. Your father and I have tried to talk to him, but he's being difficult," she explained before changing the subject to his studies.

The trip home passed swiftly for the pair, and Alexander made sure to thank his mother for sending him his non-magical assignments throughout the year.

"It's good you brought that up," his mother said, pulling onto the street where their home was. "Do you remember that test I sent you to do a few weeks ago?"

"The one that gave me a headache?" Alexander complained good-naturedly. "Yeah, I did it and sent it back. You did get it right? Owl mail is usually pretty reliable."

"Yes, I did, and I still stand by my stance that owls make better pest control than message deliverers. Anyway, I sent it over to my friend Margie at the local university so she could help me decide on what you should study next. She wanted to know when I started tutoring an undergraduate."

Alexander was shocked. "What?"

Cynthia nodded as she parked the car. "She was amazed when I told her it was your work. Said it made sense you were going to some elite boarding school in Scotland if this was the quality of your work. She wanted to know if you picked a discipline yet."

"What?"

His mother began to giggle. "When I told her, over the phone mind you, that you were locked for four more years at your school, she began ranting at her T.A. to find out where you are so she could poach you. So expect a visit from her sometime after New Years."

Alexander joined in with his mother's laughter but could scarcely believe it himself. Margie Hannon was a rather nice woman that his mother went to school with. They were good friends, and she would occasionally visit to have tea with his mother. Their conversations always fascinated Alexander and were why he was such a voracious reader. His mother was very fond of telling the story of how he fell asleep on top of a dictionary when he was seven.

As they got out of the car, Alexander grabbed his mother's attention. "I'll talk to David, mom. I think I know how to fix this."

She gave him a small smile and a gentle hug before helping him drag his trunk inside the house. The warm sensation of home washed over him, and Alexander basked in the feeling. It was everything he yearned for, and he felt himself relaxing.

"Oh, it's you," David said, glaring at him from his perch on the stairs. Alexander gave him a small smile.

"David, just who I wanted to see. Could we talk? I have something important to tell you."

Interested despite his feelings otherwise, David tried to look casual. "What about?"

Alexander sighed. "A secret. That only you and I will know."

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Leaving his trunk in the hallway, Alexander took David up to Alexander's room and closed the door, giving them some privacy. Alexander looked around his room and once more felt like a stranger in his own home. He shook off the feeling to focus on David, who was sitting on the floor against his bed. He joined him.

"My first year at Hogwarts was miserable," Alexander said, shocking David so much that he turned to look at him, wide-eyed. "I had no friends, still don't, and I was being bullied without mercy by seven older boys."

Alexander's hands shook. Briefly, the faces of Argo Gibbon, Kevin Rowle, and Albert Tripe flashed before his eyes, all seventh years now who occasionally cast spells at him. Alexander bore their attacks in silence and was already plotting on how to ruin them.

He shook himself and focused on the present. "Every night they'd drag me out of bed. They'd hit me and curse me, and call me a Mudblood. It's the vilest insult they could call someone of my heritage, a magical born from non-magical humans. They tortured me this way for months."

Alexander found his eyes growing wet as he described what the seven boys did to him as an eleven-year-old. David's little head leaned into his arm, and Alexander could feel two wet tracks of tears leaking through his shirt. Alexander took in a deep, shuddering breath and continued.

"It was dad who gave me some good advice. You have to stand up to bullies. Otherwise, they'll never let you rest, they'll never stop. You have to make them hurt," Alexander trailed off as he remembered what he did to Robert Hilliard and Henry Duny.

"You see, the two oldest boys snapped my wand that first night in Hogwarts. And when I came home from Christmas Holidays that year, they snapped it again. They told me I was unworthy of magic, that I was nothing.

"That angered me. But that's when I began to figure out how I'd hurt them. They were so obsessed with their magic, their superiority, I knew that if I took it from them, it would destroy them. So I planned, I enacted, and at the end of the year, I ensured it that their wands were snapped and that they would never be able to graduate Hogwarts."

Alexander wondered if he should tell David more, to show how dangerous and violent the magical world really was but decided against it. He still had his innocence. Alexander wouldn't take that away.

Instead, he wrapped an arm around his brother. "I know you're upset you can't learn magic, but if the trade-off was you having to experience that? I would never allow it. You're too good for the Wizarding World, David. I love you."

"Love you too," David mumbled. The two brothers sat like that for some time before their tears stopped. "Thank you for telling me this. Are you mad I was mean to you?"

"Never. I just never want you to have to go through what I did. You mean too much to me," Alexander said, his throat dry and rough, but emotionally feeling better than he had for months. "We good?"

"We good," David said. He sniffed the air. "Mom's making cookies! Race you!"

Alexander laughed as David raced out of his room, headed toward the kitchen where the delicious scent was coming from. He slowly got to his feet before making his way over to his dresser. Pulling open the top one revealed a jumble of socks, left behind for one reason or another. He gently shifted them aside to reveal a small leather bag underneath it all, on a long cord.

Opening it up and shaking it out over his open palm, a tiny red crystal fell in his hands. It was only about as big as his thumbnail, but it glinted in the evening sun. Alexander returned it to the pouch and put it around his neck.

It was time to bring the Philosopher's Stone back to Hogwarts.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: Start of Year Three.

I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	6. Year 3 Part 2

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

When he returned to Hogwarts, Alexander was surprised to find a depressed Hermione Granger sitting at his usual table in the library. Despite having made up with his brother, he wasn't sure if he was ready for another emotionally turbulent conversation so soon, finding them strangely exhausting. Unfortunately, as Alexander decided to find a new table, Hermione looked up and gave him such a gut-twistingly hopeful expression, that he couldn't find it within himself to walk away. With a sigh, he approached.

"Evening, Hermione. What happened?" Alexander asked. He reasoned something must have happened as otherwise, she wouldn't be here now.

"Hello, Alexander," she gave him a beaming smile that he didn't return. The smile then faded. "Harry and Ron aren't talking to me."

It took a moment of silence for Alexander to realize he should say something. "That's horrible," he said, digging through his bag for his quill.

Hermione didn't seem to note his disinterest. "It is! All I did was tell Professor McGonagall that Harry got a broomstick for Christmas! With Sirius Black on the loose, I thought he should be safe!"

"From killer broomsticks," Alexander muttered. Hermione nodded happily.

"Exactly! But he and Ron are throwing the most childish fit and now refuse to talk to me. When will they realize I was trying to help?"

Alexander grunted, and Hermione sighed. "Well, enough about me. How was your break?" she asked primly.

"It was good. I spent it with my family. A nice relaxing holiday which was just what I needed after the doom and gloom spread by the Dementors," Alexander said. He very carefully tried not to think about The Talk, that his father gave him the night before he left. Alexander was still trying to blot it out of his mind.

"That's good. I'm a little sad I didn't go home this year. But if I hadn't, Harry might have been cursed!" Hermione began to fret, pulling at her hair.

"So, did you finish our Potions homework? Snape wanted two feet on growing potions, but I only have one and a half," Alexander said. It immediately derailed Hermione's thoughts.

"Two feet? I wrote four!"

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The next few weeks were a novel experience for Alexander. For the past three years, the most interaction he had with his fellow students was during lessons, usually when they were paired to work on some project, and they had to work together and communicate to accomplish the given task. Because of this, he was used to spending long hours in the library researching or practicing magic in his hidden workspace.

So having Hermione Granger join him every time he entered the library was a novel experience considering that she could read books as fast as he could. However, as the weeks passed by, he noted a significant difference between their chosen reading material.

Hermione focused on whatever course work the professors assigned, religiously reading the assigned books to the point where she could quote portions of them from memory. When she read outside of those areas, it was always theoretical, never anything that she would practice or use. Even worse were the thick historical tomes she loved reading, that contained dry and useless information that no one, except a historian, would ever need.

Alexander, by contrast, read the theory behind as many different branches of magic as he could, and often experimented to see how the magic worked. He had a passion for runes and would spend hours pouring over their translations, and reading how various combinations worked. He loved magic that could be used, reveling in it.

Still, despite their differing choice in reading material, Alexander found himself enjoy the company of someone who could intellectually keep up with him. Although, he did find it trying when she went off on a hero-worshipping tangent, holding professors all over Hogwarts in high regard, despite their lackluster teaching abilities. The more she talked about the work of other great witches and wizards, the more Alexander wondered if she didn't want to stand equal to them. But if she did, why didn't she study magic instead of history?

At the beginning of February, Hermione approached Alexander in the library, blushing up a storm. "Alexander, do you have a minute?"

He looked up from his book. "Sure. What's up, Hermione?" She looked unusually flushed to his eyes. Was she sick?

"Are you going to Hogsmeade with anyone?" she asked, nervous. That wasn't at all what Alexander was expecting.

"No?" he said.

"WillyougottoHogsmeadewithme?" she said in a rush.

Alexander blinked, trying to untangle that in his head. And then he blinked again once he realized what she was asking. Realizing he was staring at an increasingly nervous Gryffindor, he replied, "yes."

"Great!" Her brilliant smile made Alexander unwillingly smile back. "I have to go to Creatures, talk to you later!"

As Hermione rushed off to get her things from Gryffindor Tower, Alexander couldn't help the warm feeling spreading through him. Maybe things were finally going right for him?

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander should have known it was too good to last.

"So you're friends again?" he asked. It was the following day, and Hermione was looking anywhere but at him.

"Well, with Harry. Ron is still being difficult, but I think things will get better now that Harry is talking to me again!" she explained.

"Ron, who doesn't like anyone outside of Gryffindor, like Ravenclaws," Alexander sighed. "Are they coming with us to Hogsmeade then?"

Hermione's silence was distinctly uncomfortable, and at once, Alexander understood that the trip would not be occurring now. Any warm feeling that he might have had remaining left him all at once, leaving him filled with ice. "I see. Well, I hope you have fun then."

Alexander swept his things off the library table and left, not stopping to listen to Hermione's protests. It was telling that she did not pursue him from the library, and Alexander knew that despite her friendly nature, Hermione was just not interested in him.

As he entered his secret set of rooms, he resisted the urge to lash out with his fists and magic, to wreck the space. It would bring him no relief he knew, and he would have to repair whatever he broke. Instead, he looked for a distraction, and his hand darted to his neck to feel the leather cord that rested there.

Although severely tempted, Alexander let his hand fall. He wasn't in the right state of mind to examine the Philosopher's Stone shard in-depth, something which would be vital when interacting with any, significantly powerful, magical artifact. His eyes fell upon the recently restocked pile of firewood, and he knew he had his answer.

"Mopsy!" he called out. A pop later and the elf appeared, a spatula in her hand. With a snap of her fingers, it vanished.

"Young sir!" she cried. "How can Mopsy being helping you?"

"I was hoping you could tell me more about House-elves. The library has very little information about your species, other than that you seem to get something out of serving wizards."

Mopsy nodded, sending her large ears flapping in the wind. "Yes, sir! Well, it started long ago..."

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander shuddered after Mopsy left. House-elves just became one of the more terrifying magical creatures in his mind, ones that should always be handled with caution. And the reason, strangely enough, was Peeves the Poltergeist.

Despite popular opinion, House-elves did not thrive off magic. They thrived off chaos, gaining tiny bits of magic from each mess they cleaned up. If a House Elf gathered enough chaos in their lifetime, they would explode, shedding their physical form to become a poltergeist.

It was rare that enough chaos is generated in one place to create a poltergeist. But a magical school, filled with hundreds of idiot teenagers? That was a perfect place. It still took hundreds of years to make Peeves, but with his attitude toward pranks, Peeves would help other House Elves grow, by creating chaos that the House-elves could feed off of.

The only reason why House-elves and poltergeists hadn't run over the world was because of one intelligent wizard, hundreds of years ago, recognized the threat of the creatures. He cursed the House-elves only to be able to feed off of wizard chaos, meaning that they wouldn't be able to terrorize muggles by stealing their children for power, any longer.

Alexander belatedly realized the stories of magical gremlins stealing children and leaving changelings behind, made a lot more sense.

He also didn't doubt that Hogwarts would gain a new poltergeist, most likely in the next few years, based on how giddy the idea made Mopsy. Alexander could only hope that he wasn't still at Hogwarts when it happened, as Peeves was enough of a nuisance for one lifetime.

Mopsy also revealed the dangers of being a House Elf. Being given clothes broke a House Elf, ensuring that they'd never be able to gain enough magic to become a poltergeist. It wasn't freedom they feared, the House-Elves knew they'd achieve that once they became a poltergeist, but they feared being prevented from that state. It would take a genuinely desperate elf to give up their chance at true freedom.

Alexander could only thank whatever quirk of nature that prevented poltergeists from having the same level of magical control as House-elves. A Peeves who could cast spells? That'd be terrifying and the stuff of nightmares.

At least he was sufficiently distracted now.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The weeks passed Alexander by quickly, filled with intense study and research. It was only broken by Hermione Granger's repeated attempts to speak with him, and the occasional curse thrown at him by Argo Gibbon, one of the three boys still at Hogwarts who tortured him in the first year. He was surprised to find that he had almost forgotten about them but began to design a plan to punish them suitably.

As for Hermione, he felt nothing. He has no desire to speak to her, not even when he noticed that Harry and Ron were still excluding her. Alexander wanted nothing to do with her, especially as he had discovered several startling and fascinating things to occupy his time.

The first concerned the Philosopher's Stone and, more specifically, what it was made of. Nicholas Flamel had somehow crystalized blood and magic into one substance, compressing vast quantities of it into an object he could easily hold in his hand. The shard, all that remained of that stone, was far weaker but still contained an incalculable amount of blood and magic. Alexander wondered how Nicholas Flamel gathered it as it would take thousands of bodies to be emptied of their precious life-fluids to create a full-sized stone.

Which led to his second discovery and one he wasn't even expecting. He came across an old medical text which detailed the study of magic by a dark lord some three hundred years ago. The witch theorized that every living thing, creature, and plant, contained a small amount of magic. She reasoned that this magic made up what was often considered a soul. Which meant even non-magical humans were magical to some degree.

While this was all fascinating, it wasn't until Alexander reexamined the Philosopher's Stone that he realized what Nicholas Flamel must have done to create it.

The Alchemist must have murdered thousands of non-magical humans, draining them of their souls and blood, and using some sort of ritual to bind it all together. A quick check of the history books revealed that right around the time that Nicholas Flamel made his stone, the population of Paris was cut in half, supposedly to the Black Plague. Or perhaps the wizard took advantage of the massive amounts of death at the time, killing the sick and dying and taking their blood?

Either way, Alexander remembered shuddering at the realization that Albus Dumbledore invited a mass murderer into Hogwarts. It became even worse when he realized that Dumbledore also spent several years learning under him. Who knew what sort of drastic actions he learned directly from Nicholas Flamel?

In great need of a break from this work, Alexander turned his attention back to the concept of a portable library. With a deeper understanding of runic languages and Arithmancy, he succeeded in creating a stone tablet that could display the pages of a closed book from a foot away using grains of sand. While very limited, he's pleased that he had a way forward, if he could just settle the problem of storage.

Fortunately, he had nothing but time on his hands.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander raised his hand. He was dimly aware that the entire Ancient Runes classroom was staring at him, but that didn't concern him. Professor Babbling always ended her classes with an open-ended invitation for anyone to ask questions. Most of his classmates would ask clarifying questions about their homework or the day's assignments, but the professor had proven willing to answer questions about other, more esoteric topics.

"Mr. Dantes?" Professor Babbling raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Do you have a question about the homework?"

"No, professor," Alexander replied. Drawing out a two rune system to create a night light? He could carve that by hand in his first year. "I had a question about expansion charms."

Professor Babbling's other eyebrow joined the first. "I would have thought you'd direct this question to Professor Flitwick. He is a Charm's Master, after all."

Alexander shook his head. While he would attend the man's class, he would never speak to him again if he had his way, not after the professor's dismal failure and actions two years ago. "I was curious if there was a runic scheme to secure and stabilize an expanded space. I couldn't find anything touching on them in the library, and it seemed like they're prone to failure."

And hadn't that annoyed him. Still, Professor Babbling hadn't accused him of being a liar or cheater yet, which put her above the other professors in his mind. Asking her was a risk, but one he was willing to take if it meant getting his information.

"Well, you're right, they are prone to failure," Professor Babbling said. "Unfortunately, there are no known runic structures that can be used to stabilize them. In fact, if you attempt to power up a rune in an expanded space, you usually just make the area explode."

She walked around to the front of her desk to lean against it. "Most witches and wizards simply rely on Magical Locking Charms, using passwords that must be dispelled before you may dismiss the underlying charm. You can layer these charms upon one another, using nonsense and random words to ensure they don't ever get dispelled accidentally, but the charms can fade after a few years."

Alexander wasn't the only student taking notes. "There are no enchantments that we can use, professor?" a Slytherin girl asked.

"No, Ms. Greengrass, although long theorized, password enchantments are not a viable path for one simple reason: No one can create one."

"No one?" Hannah Abbott asked.

Professor Babbling seemed to consider her statement before shaking her head. "Perhaps it should be said no one has figured out how to make one. The Ancient Egyptians have one of the most stable runic languages in the world, and even their magical locking charms fall apart after a few years. They layered hundreds of thousands of the things on their ruins, extending their life through unknown means, which took thousands of years to wear off. Still, for every magical artifact site we uncover in Egypt, another three sites are lost due to the spells failing and imploding. This is part of why Curse Breakers have such a dangerous profession, class."

As the rest of the class chattered excitedly about Curse Breaking, Egypt, and history, Alexander sat there quietly and thought. He would find a way to make the enchantment. And then he'd use it to show the world why the muggle-born were worthy of magic.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Exams came and went, and Alexander found them far too easy. Even Professor Vector's Arithmancy exam was a breeze, even though she glared at him the whole time. Still, with how her eyes never left him, she couldn't claim he cheated and would have to mark him fairly.

Who was he kidding? She, like Professor McGonagall, would probably still mark him down as a failure.

Alexander decided to follow the rest of Hogwarts down for one last Hogsmeade weekend. He reasoned he needed the fresh air, figuring it would be good for him to get out of the castle and to enjoy the sights. It only took two minutes for him to be reminded that the most exciting thing in Hogsmeade was a haunted building.

"We live in a castle filled with ghosts, yet somehow everyone is afraid of a haunted building," he angrily muttered to himself. It was ridiculous any way you looked at it. He wouldn't be surprised if the howling heard from the shack at night was just some amorous couple in search of a secret rendevous spot.

He walked away from the building and found himself near the rubbish bin he had found a werewolf digging through. He vaguely wondered how she was doing, especially since the full moon was tonight. A man clearing his throat behind Alexander caused him to turn around.

A brutish looking man wearing expensive robes stood there. He was smiling at Alexander, but it was one of those smiles that told you the bearer had already considered what value you had and found you lacking. It made Alexander want to smash a brick into it.

"You haven't seen a mongrel around here, have you lad?" the man asked. "I seem to have lost mine." Alexander mentally upgraded that brick into a whole house but answered the man anyway.

"No, sir," he said. There was a touch of danger about the man, so Alexander chose to tread cautiously. The man sighed.

"I thought not." The stranger gave Alexander a considering look. "What's your family's name, lad?"

Warning bells rang in Alexander's head, and something told him he needed to lie. "Boot, sir."

The man nodded approvingly. "Ah, a Pure-blood of acceptable stock. Well, you let Lord Nott," the man jammed a thumb at himself, "know if you see that Mudblood werewolf, you hear?"

"Yes, sir," Alexander said. He gripped his hands tightly to the point of pain. Lord Nott gave him one last nod before apparating away.

Alexander scowled deeply, and his magic within him churned angrily. His eyes darted around for something to unleash it, to tear apart, to destroy. A shrill scream begging for aid caught his attention, causing him to whirl around and head toward it. He found his target.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

His fury knew no bounds. Alexander thought he was angry before, that the wretched Lord Nott seeking his "pet" pushed him to his limit, but he was wrong. Oh, how he wished the lows wizards would sink to would cease to surprise him, cease horrifying him, but how wrong he was.

Argo Gibbon, Kevin Rowle, and Albert Tripe. The last three names for Alexander to punish for their role in bullying him in his first year. He had exercised patience, working on several cursed letters that they would touch on their last day at Hogwarts, cursing them with misfortune for the rest of their days. No spell would work on the first cast, often going wrong with disastrous consequences, a perfect curse to harass three boys who harassed him.

Only now they were focused on someone else.

Rowle and Tripe held the blonde girl down, holding her frantically struggling limbs while Gibbon tore at her clothes. Her mouth was opened and moving, no sound coming forth, and Alexander didn't doubt she was silenced with magic. Her frantic, terrified eyes made contact with his, and for one moment, understanding passed between them. She begged him to do anything to stop them.

Alexander didn't step forward, he lunged. He didn't draw his wand, he raised his hands. And he didn't shout or call attention to himself, he pushed his magic at the three boys with only one thought in mind: Get them away from her.

The three boys were thrown from the girl, who Alexander vaguely recognized from his Ancient Runes class. The green trim on her torn robes told him little more, but he couldn't recall her name. Instead, he pulled off his robes, thankful that like most muggle-borns, he wore the full Hogwarts uniform underneath, and tossed it at her.

A wave of his hand at her mouth dispelled the silencing charm. "Are you alright?" he asked.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times in shock, her eyes darting between his face, hands, and the three groaning boys. "Yes, thank you," she said breathlessly. Satisfied, Alexander turned his focus onto the three boys and stalked closer.

"Ugh, what hit us?" Tripe asked. Alexander stretched out a hand at a loose rock on the ground, threw his magic at it, and commanded it to smash into his face. Tripe was knocked down, unconscious.

"Shit, Tripe!" Rowle was looking around, dazed, trying to find where the stone came from. "Gibbon, what the hell happened?"

"Shut up! Where is she?" Gibbon asked, holding his hand to his head.

"I don't care about some useless tart! Just because you need help spreading her legs, doesn't mean I want her!" Rowle shouted. Alexander's face grew hard and cold at that. He reached out again, wrapping his magic around Rowle. He lifted the surprised boy off the dirt before slamming him back down violently, knocking him out.

"Rowle?" Gibbon finally looked up to see Alexander, glaring down at him. "Mudblood! So you're the one who did this. I'll make you regret that."

Alexander disagreed. "You needed your mates to hold me down in my first year to beat me up, Gibbon. It's a shame to see that nothing's changed."

He did nothing as Gibbon staggered to his feet, drawing his wand. "Don't need my fists to make you bleed, Mudblood," Gibbon spat, shooting an angry ball of red light at Alexander.

Alexander raised his hand and whispered, "Protego." The ball smashed into the shield, dissipating.

"What?" Gibbon seemed shocked, either that a Mudblood blocked his spell, or that Alexander did it without a wand. Perhaps both.

Alexander didn't care to ask to find out. He twisted his hand and sent out a Stunning spell, knocking the Pure-blood out. Alexander became aware that the girl was staring at him with wide, blue eyes. Eyeing her for a moment, he gave her a polite nod, before sweeping his hand before him.

He said no spell, for he didn't know if there was one for what he wanted. Instead, he focused on his intent and held it firm with his will power. The three boys lifted smoothly off the ground and levitated in the air before him. Without another look, Alexander and his new cargo took off for the edge of Hogsmeade, where it met the Forbidden Forest.

Alexander was aware that the girl was following behind him, but didn't feel the need to call her out on it. He would have been curious too, why his savior wasn't taking his tormentors to the castle, to justice. Or maybe it was the fact she kept glancing at his hands, at his casual use of wandless magic. He just didn't know.

That they arrived at the edge of the village unbothered by anyone didn't surprise Alexander one bit. Witches and wizards were remarkably self-absorbed at the best of times. Short of knocking on their doors and windows, he didn't think there was anything he could do to gain their attention. Or maybe they were all hiding inside from the ever-pervasive chill of the Dementors? Because that was why he was there now.

He could see them now, floating over the trees of the Forbidden Forest, like the wraiths they were. They seemed to drift without direction, only maintaining enough awareness not to crash into one another. Alexander turned his head slightly to the side so that he could look the girl he saved in the eye.

"Are you adverse to them being punished?" he asked. She looked between him and the Dementors for a long moment before finally answering.

"No." Her voice was steady. Victim she may be, she did not shy away from what needed to be done.

And with that, Alexander focused on the closest Dementor. He didn't know how to do what he wanted to be done, but he did have the will and the magic to make it happen. He somehow knew that would be enough.

He reached out and curled his hand, as if grabbing the Dementor. His magic lept from his body, invisible to all save him before it struck the dark wraith. It paused, twisting and turning in confusion, before turning to him.

"Come," Alexander ordered. He closed his hand and slowly pulled it close, never once wavering.

The Dementor ghosted toward him. Immediately the chill worsened, and Alexander began to feel sluggish. But he called on his magic, letting it wrap around him, burning with all the fury and rage the last hour had created within him. The chill in the air abated, and Alexander could hear a soft gasp of surprise behind him as it also affected the girl he saved.

It was close now, hovering just a short distance away. It seemed to look curiously between the three unmoving boys on the ground and the two figures standing without issue before it. Its gaze focused on Alexander, and a whispered howl echoed through the air.

"_...yyyYYYEEEEESSSsss..._?" it seemed to whisper into Alexander's ear from a distance. It was unsettling, it was inhuman, and Alexander wished never to hear it again. But he was here for a reason, so he simply pointed at the three boys on the ground.

"It's dinner time."

The Dementor didn't hesitate, swooping down and latching onto Kevin Rowle. Its head bent low, and an awful sucking noise was heard as if a vacuum was being used to clean out a sewer. Alexander couldn't see what happened exactly, but the Dementor moved on to its next victim, leaving behind Rowle's body, which was oddly still.

It only took a few moments for the Dementor to finish. It gave Alexander and the Slytherin girl a seemingly intense look before floating away, neither hurried or sluggish. It joined its fellows without issue, and soon blended into their number entirely.

Alexander turned fully to the girl. She was clutching his robe tightly to herself, but Alexander eyed it critically. He waved his hand, and the Ravenclaw Blue trim changed into Slytherin Green, matching her tie underneath. They both pretended not to notice she flinched when he gestured his hand at her.

"You grew bored of Hogsmeade," Alexander said. She gave him a confused look. "You were bored. You went back to Hogwarts and decided to read in your common room. Somewhere nice and visible, where you couldn't possibly have been in Hogsmeade when this happened."

She nodded in understanding but looked displeased. "Just pretend it didn't happen?" she said distastefully.

Alexander shrugged. "No one ever believes anything I say anyway. Unless you say it did, everyone is just going to assume this was a tragic accident. Do you want everyone to know what happened here?"

She averted her gaze. "Then, as far as the rest of the world is concerned, it didn't," Alexander said. He began to walk away.

"Thank you!" she called out again. Alexander stopped, turning to face her again. "You didn't have to help me."

"Yes, I did," he disagreed. "I could never have stood by, not after having been at their mercy before. I'm not that cruel."

She looked at the three soulless bodies behind her for a moment. "I suppose you aren't."

Alexander left. In a few more days, he would be back in the non-magical world, relaxing with his family and finally free of the spectres of his past haunting him. The seven bullies were gone, in one way or another, from the Wizarding World and his life. For the first time in three years, he felt truly free.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: End of Year Three.

I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	7. Year 4 Part 1

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The Hogwarts Express softly rocked as it sped toward its destination, the gentle patter of rain almost relaxing as it left London. It clicked, it clacked, and it echoed with the greetings and laughter of children as they reunited after a summer apart. It was the perfect place for them to reconnect before they focused on learning magic at the world-famous Hogwarts.

Alexander Dantes wasn't connecting with his peers nor even sitting with them. He was instead looking out the window, enjoying the passing scenery while he reflected on his summer holiday. It had, after all, become a turning point in his magical studies.

A conversation with his father, Adrian, at the dinner table one evening allowed Alexander to solve the greatest question Rune Masters had been asking for centuries. Namely, how were runic alphabets created? The answer, perhaps unsurprisingly, had to do with blood.

Ancient civilizations had spilled whole kingdoms worth of blood, which was the first part of the equation. The next part involved speaking specific words or carving certain symbols which are then filled with blood. Alexander had long since known that everyone has magic in their blood, only in differing amounts, and the concentration of said blood in one location could lead to the creation of a Philosopher's Stone. And apparently, it could also lead to the creation of new spells or runes.

If you spoke a language long enough with enough freshly spilled blood on hand, the magic within the blood would slowly start to seep into that language. This was why Nordic and Latin languages had so many bastardized spells; they were among the most popular languages of warmongers at various points in history.

But some languages died out and lost the spoken word. So, instead, all of their magic resides in their written word, or runes. This did raise the question of why you couldn't use Latin script as runes, but Alexander reasoned that this was because the armies of the time shouted their messages, not carved them into the bodies of their enemies. Thus, the magic would be more closely associated with the spoken word rather than the written word. Which wasn't to say it was impossible to create Latin runes, just that no one had figured out how.

Magic had a consistent methodology across the globe. It was also continually evolving, only becoming more intricate and refined as more magicals were born, lived, and died. Alexander reasoned that it might one day become so advanced it would develop true sentience about it, but wagered that would be many hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of years in the future. It was still a fascinating prospect, however, and one he was eager to explore further.

When Alexander had first discovered wandless magic, after his wand was snapped in his first year, he had experimented with many different spells for weeks. He felt how his magic formed within him, and replicated what he experienced as often as he could to make it feel normal. He hadn't thought much more about it until a few weeks ago when he developed this new theory.

He called on his magic to perform a levitation charm, but rather than let the spell end after a moment, he tried to examine how it felt internally. The magic seemed to rest in his feet before surging up his body to his hand. If he focused on the feeling, he could describe it as being as light as a feather. When he cast a basic transfiguration spell on a sock, to turn it into a sweater, it felt like pins and needles forming in the joints of his fingers, not unlike the sensation of having a limb fall asleep.

He tried dozens of spells and felt how the magic seemed to move all over his body before leaving, directed at whatever he was focused on. He noticed how casting the same spell over and over again made it form just slightly faster each time.

It wasn't until he cast a stunner at his pillow that he realized what his magic was doing. On his forehead, between the eyes, it felt as though something heavy had hit there. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he could almost see the faint outline for a basic stunning ward on his brow, but the image vanished the moment he blinked. But he saw it, and that's all that mattered.

It took him another week to write down the spell formulas, an area of Arithmancy that wizards used to prove why spells work, for all the spells he knew. Casting them one at a time, he kept an eye out for runes forming within him, and to his glee, he began to see them. At first, the spells would form too fast for him to notice any definite shapes, but with practice, he eventually began to see the runes. There were usually three to four times as many runes needed, but the spell formulas were all present in one form or another.

As a fourteen-year-old wizard, Alexander Dantes solved a problem that had been stumping wizards for centuries. He couldn't wait to get to Hogwarts and prove it by creating a runic alphabet. And the conversation that led to Alexander figuring it all out?

Where did Magicals come from?

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

While his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, the rest of the world did not sit idly by, waiting for Alexander to notice it. The compartment door slid open to reveal two girls, both wearing green trimmed robes, looking at him with curiosity in their eyes. His mother's parting words flashed through his mind:

"Try to make some friends this year, Alex," she had said to him fondly. She hugged him. "You're far too special to live your life alone."

Despite not wanting to, Alexander wanted to disappoint his mother even less, so he nodded politely to the two girls. "Good morning, Davis. Greengrass," he said.

"Dantes," Tracey Davis replied. Daphne Greengrass was just giving him a searching look. "Would you mind if we join you? It seems as though all the other carriages are full."

Privately, Alexander doubted that. But rather than call them out on it, he shook his head in reply. "I don't mind. Do you need help with your trunks?" he asked, gesturing to the racks above the seats.

"Yes!" Tracey almost shouted. Alexander and Daphne looked at her, the former in surprise and latter in exasperation. Tracey blushed. "I mean, please."

Purposefully drawing his wand, he enunciated the Levitation Charm clearly and stored the trunks in the racks above the seats. As the two girls sat across from him, he could spy an almost disappointed look on Tracey's face. Retaking his seat, he returned his attention to the window and the landscape passing them by.

Tracey fidgeted out of the corner of his eye. She leaned into Daphne and whispered, not at all quietly, "I thought you said he knew wandless magic?"  
"I thought that what happened at the end of last year would remain a secret," Alexander said out loud, causing Tracey to flinch. "Or at least, that's what you led me to believe, Greengrass."

She didn't flinch or blush, which Alexander appreciated. Despite her circumstances at the end of last year, Daphne Greengrass was made of sterner stuff, despite what her porcelain features implied. She stared back at Alexander cooly, unafraid of anything. It was a mask, Alexander could tell, but he didn't feel the need to break it.

"I tell Tracey everything," she finally said. A small crack in her mask formed as the memory of the event replayed in her mind. "I needed to tell someone..."

Alexander reluctantly nodded and averted his gaze, allowing her to calm herself down. He had no judgment for her. He knew what it was like to be unable to do anything while others overpower you.

Rain pelted the window as the compartment fell silent, each occupant occupied with their thoughts. Ten minutes, twenty, half an hour went by before anyone moved, and it was Daphne Greengrass pulling out her wand. She emptied her pockets of half-formed figurines and began to poke them with her wand, trying to force the transfiguration to complete.

The silence seemed to get to Tracey the most. She was fidgeting, her eyes darting from the figurines to Alexander, to the window outside and back again. It finally grew too much for Alexander, causing him to sigh and make eye contact.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Why don't you have any friends?" Tracey Davis asked with all the bluntness of a hammer. Alexander was shocked and began to consider leaving when she threw up a hasty hand. "Sorry! That came out wrong. What I mean is, well, you're the smartest in our year, why does everyone in Ravenclaw seem to avoid you like the plague?"

Alexander briefly considered telling her to go to hell but found his curiosity too strong to resist. "How do you know where I rank in the class? I don't even know that."

She gave him a mischievous smile. "At the end of last year, I had a detention with Professor Flitwick for shoving a dung bomb into Goyle's bookbag when he wasn't looking. He made me stay afterward to clean the classroom, but I guess he forgot to secure his desk, as I found the Ravenclaw records in the top drawer. Had the past three years in it."

Tracey leaned forward eagerly. "Except for Exceed Expectations in Transfiguration and Potions, you have Outstandings in most courses. Arithmancy was weird, though, because instead of a grade, Vector just wrote a rant about something being impossible."

"Fascinating," Alexander deadpanned, "but that doesn't tell me how you know the class rankings."

She shrugged. "It was on another piece of paper, marked for professor's eyes only. You're even beating Hermione Granger! The know-it-all!" she finished with a giggle.

Alexander rolled his eyes but couldn't help but feel faintly pleased. He knew it was a meaningless rank overall, that his wandless magic and research into runic languages deserved far more acclaim, but he couldn't help but feel pleased his intelligence was noticed. Daphne's continued casting caught his eye.

She was transfiguring a pile of rocks into a village made out of crystal. He watched as she spoke the spell correctly, making the wand motion with precision, but always ending in the tightest of little twirls, a flourish that threw off the concentration of her magic, disrupting her focus and intent.

"You're adding a flourish," he suddenly found himself speaking. Both witches turned to look at him in surprise, and Alexander found himself blushing. "At the end of your spell, you do the wand movements correctly, but you're adding a flourish, and it's throwing off most of the magic."

Daphne's eyes narrowed at him. "You should not tell a witch how she should cast her spells," she warned. Alexander turned to the window, finding his eyes drawn to her in the reflection.

Daphne and Tracey shared a look before she tried the spell again. Alexander watched her wand movements carefully and was pleased to see she stopped herself from adding the flourish at the end. The transfiguration completed correctly, creating a crystalline horse rearing back on its hind legs.

"How do you not have an Outstanding in Transfiguration too?" Tracey demanded. Alexander barely turned his head to reply.

"McGonagall thinks I'm a liar. She marks every assignment I turn into her a Troll, but she can't argue with practicals or exams," Alexander answered with surprising honesty. His eyes darted in the window between the two girls.

Tracey looked satisfied with this information and was settling back in her seat comfortably, but it was Daphne that he focused on. She was busily transfiguring the rest of her pebbles into crystals, each wand movement precise and with no hesitation at the end. Alexander belatedly realized that Daphne Greengrass was faking her transfiguration, doing it wrong on purpose to get him to reveal the extent of his knowledge, to get more information. As the train sped away, Alexander found himself reluctantly impressed by her cunning.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

It was perhaps, the most pleasant experience Alexander had ever had on the Hogwarts Express.

Daphne and Tracey did not feel the need to fill the air with needless chatter, the forming choosing to perfect her little crystal village while the later revised her summer homework quietly. Every once in a while, Tracey would ask Daphne a question about it but would occasionally throw the odd question at Alexander, always probing for more information. And to his surprise, he found himself willingly helping her with her homework.

It was odd but nice.

They arrived at Hogwarts without issue but rushed to the horseless carriages and the shelter they provided from the heavy rains. Their haste might as well been without purpose, as when they entered the Entrance Hall, they were soaked to the bone by water balloons, thrown by Peeves. As Alexander sat at the Ravenclaw table, he used his magic to dry his robes, so he wouldn't be sitting there shivering like the rest of his house. They had magic for a reason; they should learn to use it.

The first years were sorted quickly, but before the food appeared, Headmaster Dumbledore stood.

"Welcome, one and all, to Hogwarts. There are just a few start-of-term announcements we need to go over, so please bear with me before we may eat. Now..."

He droned on about several unimportant matters to Alexander. But at the end of Dumbledore's speech, the ancient wizard said something that caught his attention.

"Now, Quidditch has been canceled this year." A wave of boos met Dumbledore, and he shook his hands placatingly. "I know, I know, but I think you'll all enjoy the replacement this year, as we're bringing back the famous TriWizard Tournament!"

The students began to talk excitedly about what this would mean. Dumbledore continued speaking. "Delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving a day before Halloween, to get settled in before the choosing of the champions! Yes, this is an exciting time."

Students from other schools coming here to compete in some sort of tournament? That could be interesting to do. Alexander wondered if he should try to become the champion for Hogwarts.

Albus Dumbledore spoke once more. "Now, before you get too excited, only students who are of age by Halloween may enter. I'm sorry, but it's for your own safety."

And just like that, Alexander felt his interest in the Triwizard Tournament die.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander had mixed feelings about Professor Moody. On the one hand, the ex-Auror was brilliant, really knew the material, and was competent enough to teach it. On the other hand, he seemed overly fond of making people jump and was awfully twitchy with his wand in hand. But it wasn't until a few weeks into the term that Alexander decided how he felt about the professor.

And it was cautious.

After a lesson on the Unforgiveables, three spells that, if any witch or wizard were to use them on another, they'd be arrested and sent on a one way trip to Azkaban, Professor Moody revealed he'd be casting the Imperius Curse on all of them. They would experience the feeling of domination, of not being in control of their own body, and forced to do something. Professor Moody, no doubt, wanted to use it as a fear tactic to scare the students away from the Dark Arts.

Alexander was okay with that. His issue was how gleeful the professor seemed to be over the idea of casting the spell on students. Professor Moody seemed to almost salivate at the thought, licking his lips in glee. It made for an incredibly uncomfortable sight that filled Alexander with unease.

So when the day arrived, Alexander paid careful attention. He watched as, one by one, his fellow students succumbed to the spell, being forced to sing, dance, or act like an animal. Some of the students laughed, but not one of the students who had already experienced the curse joined in. It was finally Alexander's turn.

"Imperio," Professor Moody said, his wand pointed at Alexander. A sense of calming, peaceful emotion seemed to fill his mind. Alexander watched, almost detached, as it tried to sink into his mind but seemed to be rebuffed by something. He almost twitched when he realized his Occlumency, a skill he had been slowly practicing for years, was finally being tested.

It didn't work perfectly; Alexander could feel the spell on him, feel how it told him to relax. But the rest of his mind didn't want to relax, didn't want to obey. And then came the order.

_Smack a pure-blood_, the voice ordered. _Smack them as hard as you can._

Which was why, when Alexander looked to his left and saw Crabbe's grinning laughing face, he didn't hesitate to smash his fist as hard as he could into Crabbe's nose. The haze disappeared instantly from his mind, and he shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"Aha! See what can happen? It's not just party tricks the Imperius can make you do; it can make you attack anyone! Write that down," Professor Moody ordered as Alexander quietly made his way back to his seat. A few students later had Harry Potter jumping into a table, which resulted in the insane professor throwing more of the curses at him, until he could finally beat it.

The class ended, and Moody vanished into his offices, leaving the students to dismiss themselves. Alexander was among the last to leave and was surprised to find Daphne Greengrass waiting for him by the door.

"You were faking," she said without preamble. "How did you fake that?"

He shrugged. "It's easy to fake what you would be willing to do anyway."

She said nothing else as she turned and walked away, graceful like a dancer. Alexander shook himself from his thoughts and went to his hidden rooms. He wanted to practice Occlumency more after experiencing how useful it was first handed.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Not even a week later, Daphne and Tracey found Alexander in the library, standing at the edge of his table with a stack of books in hand. He blinked up at them in surprise.

"We're here for our tutoring session," Tracey loudly said. A few students looked at the group curiously before focusing on their own tasks.

Alexander's brow furrowed. "I wasn't aware I was tutoring anyone," he said at a mild volume, unsure if he should be overheard or not by eavesdroppers.

"Oh, you're not," Tracey said in a quieter tone, sliding into an open seat. "Well, unless you want to. But we figured sitting near you would at least allow us to improve our grades by proximity, if anything."

Things made sense now to Alexander. They just wanted to improve their grades, so they were going to try to study with him. A pity that wouldn't work.

"So what are you working on? Potions? Runes? I still need to do that Charm's assignment on summoning charms," Tracey rambled, flipping over one of Alexander's books. She blanched. "What language is this in?"

"German," he replied, a small smirk on his face. "It's a historical text on lumber charms."

"Why are you reading this? Is it extra credit?" Tracey asked, slightly panicked that she missed something in her previous Charm's class. Alexander shook his head.

"We have magic. It's capable of so much more than what we learn in classes. It's almost criminal how little magic we actually learn here."

"What do you mean?" Daphne Greengrass spoke for the first time. "Hogwarts is the greatest magical institution in the world."

Alexander sighed before waving his wand, using the motion to disguise the silencing spell he wove around their table wandlessly. He wasn't going to get kicked out of the library for talking again. "A meaningless title. Look, what would you consider a Great Work of Magic?"

The two witches looked stumped. "You mean like enchanted objects?" Tracey asked. Alexander shook his head but looked at Daphne.

She seemed to think about it for a moment. "The Valley of the Magicians in Egypt. It's where the tombs of the Priests of Egypt are. Some of their wards have lasted to this day."

Alexander nodded. "That's a good example. But what about modern wizards? What are they creating?"

The two witches fell silent, so he continued. "Modern witches and wizards have no appreciation for magic. They view it as a toy. They disrespect it because they're so unwilling to use it to its full potential. Greengrass, you finished your crystal village, correct?"

She jumped as the focus suddenly turned to her, but nodded. "Why not make it lifesize?" Alexander asked.

Daphne raised an eyebrow at that. "Because it's impossible."

"Is it?" Alexander challenged. "Or is it no one has ever tried? Or figured out a way to make it happen. You're the Slytherin, what is your ambition?"

"I want to be a powerful and respected witch," she heatedly said.

"Why?"

Daphne was stunned into silence again, so Alexander spoke. "What would it gain you to be known as the most powerful witch in the world? A hoard of enemies you'd have to defend yourself from constantly. Jealous companions who would seek to take what is yours. Or maybe you want wealth, why? With our magic we want for almost nothing, what use is a pile of shiny disks?"

Alexander sighed. "I want to make a Great Work. I want witches and wizards to be inspired for generations to create, to challenge, to forge ahead new paths, and discover new things. I want them to become explorers, tinkerers, so much more than paper pushers! We could be so much more."

"You don't want to be wealthy?" Tracey asked, shocked that anyone could not want to be rich. Alexander shrugged.

"Wealth is meant to be used, not hoarded."

"What about powerful, wouldn't you need a lot of power to create anything like that?" she asked. Alexander looked her straight in the eyes.

"Then, I will become powerful. I will find it, I will make it, and it may take me my entire life, but I will do it." He slashed his wand through the air to dispell the silencing spell and stood up. "I hope you find what you want in life."

He walked away.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander was draining his blood.

As he drank another Blood Replenishing Potion, he felt the small amount of lightheadedness he was experiencing vanish. Before him was a casket large enough to fit Hagrid standing, with five more behind him comfortably. He had spent the better part of two weeks slowly draining his blood into it, replenishing himself with potions provided by a mischievous Mopsy, who no doubt stole them from Professor Snape.

Alexander couldn't find it in himself to care. The man was a useless teacher and favored his Slytherins far too much to be healthy. Maybe the man was compensating for something, but Alexander didn't care to find out what. He had more important things to do, like trying to create a runic language using his own blood.

He was reading a book on Chinese water magics when it happened. His free hand was fiddling around with the pouch that hung from his neck, the one that contained the last shard of the Philosopher's Stone in it. Alexander must have tugged on the cord too hard as it came loose in his hand. He fumbled frantically with it, but all that happened with his desperate fumbling was that the pouch opened, and the shard flew through the air. With a soft plop, it fell into the casket of blood.

A rush of air and magic pulled Alexander forward, and a blinding light momentarily took his vision from him. With a thud, he fell to the ground, bleeding all over the place.

Stemming the blood with a whispered spell, Alexander blinked the spots from his eyes. Slowly his vision cleared, revealing the casket to have imploded violently, turning it into so much kindling that he couldn't possibly repair it with magic. Of the gallons of blood he had emptied into it, there was not a single drop to be seen.

Crouching down low, he began to sort through the pile, curious as to why it was bone dry. It only took him a minute to uncover why and it made him whoop and holler like a lunatic.

The Philosopher's Stone was no longer a tiny sliver of a shard. It was now the size of a grape.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Despite his concerns about being discovered, Alexander immediately began filling a new casket with blood. As he started anew, he looked at the Philosopher's Stone, admiring it from many angles. The tiny stone thrummed with power, and Alexander feared that it would draw attention were he to add more magic to it. As it was, he carefully examined it with magic, writing down every fact he discovered, no matter how mundane. He didn't know if he would ever need to know that the stone had a constant temperature that mirrored the human holding it, but reasoned it was important somehow.

He then resecured it in the pouch, adding whatever charms, enchantments, and runes he could to the flimsy material to protect it. Unfortunately, he couldn't add much but found the little bit of protection he gave it enough to ease his troubled mind.

A few days passed and when he found himself reaching for the pouch again, Alexander forcibly put his hand on the table in front of him. He was in the library, searching for a way around his problems with expansion charms, namely with how to secure and stabilize them. Having an expanded space contract violently, or even twist upon itself, turning it into its own little bubble dimension, was not something he wanted to have happen.

Alexander paused. A bubble dimension. Something that is always there but unable to interact with this dimension. But how to even reach it? The power needed would be astronomical, on the level of dozens, if not hundreds of witches and wizards. And how would you even get to the dimension in the first place? It's not like you can just pop there...

Alexander stilled. He very carefully shut his book, collected his bag, and made his way out of the library. Alexander strolled, giving no indication to the outside world that his thoughts were flying faster than a shooting star. It wasn't until he reached his secret rooms that he called out.

"Mopsy!" he called out, the eagerness in voice making his voice tremble. He paid it no mind though when the House Elf appeared with a pop.

"How can Mopsy be helping, sir?" she asked, looking up at him with large, bulbous eyes.

"How do you pop?" Alexander asked, almost crazed for the answer.

"Mopsy goes to where she is needed," the confused House Elf explained. Alexander shook his head.

"No, no, I know. But Wizards Apparate. But they can't Apparate on the grounds of Hogwarts; the wards are too thick and heavy here. So how do you do it?" Alexander asked.

The tiny creature was silent for a long time. "Mopsy just pops," she finally said with a small shrug. Alexander almost groaned in frustration. "Sorry Mopsy can't be of more help, sir."

Alexander rubbed his temples slowly. "It's alright, Mopsy, thanks anyway." Just as she was about to pop away, he was struck with a thought, and he called out to her to wait. "Wait! When you pop places, say between here and the kitchens, do you go anywhere while you are in between?"

Mopsy nodded. "Of course, sir! Sometimes Mopsy goes to the laundry, or to clean the bedrooms, to Great Hall..."

As the little elf explained all the places she's been in the castle, Alexander didn't resist groaning. He had a gut feeling he was on the right track, but Mopsy couldn't understand what he was asking. Alexander knew they would learn Apparation in their sixth year, which meant two more years until he would have his answer. He couldn't help but feel frustrated, though; he wanted his answer now.

He had a brain wave and looked Mopsy in the eye with such directness the elf stammered herself into silence. "Mopsy. Could you pop me to the kitchens?"

The tiny elf nodded fearfully and held out her hand. Taking a deep breath to ready himself, Alexander took it.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: Start of Year Four.

I hope you're enjoying the story!


	8. Year 4 Part 2

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander confirmed several things over the next few weeks leading up to Halloween. The first was that poltergeists and house-elves were not of this dimension. From what he could determine, they were native to another dimension or world or something, but one that had suffered a calamity of some sort. They had come to this one and taken sanctuary on Earth, integrating with the wizarding society globally.

The second thing was that the dimension they were from was entirely unsuitable for anything, not even storage. The calamity that destroyed their world rendered it unuseable to anyone but House-elves, who could enter it, then pop to anywhere in the world they needed to be. It was a shame, but it didn't demotivate Alexander, who was pleased he figured out another mystery.

What it did tell him was that there was a magical way to breach dimensions and that House-elves figured out how to do it without a wand, a ritual, or any overt preparation. While they had to be mindful of wards, they could usually pass through them, so long as they were cautious. This spoke of a high degree of magical control that Alexander knew he did not have regrettably. Thus this information would be useless to him for many years yet, although he made sure to note it for future use.

But because of his intensive studies into the House-elves, he had accidentally stumbled upon an upgrade to his portable library, one that he was quick to put into practice. While he was unable to store books within yet, not even through creative uses of shrinking and switching charms as the text would always be too minute to read, he had found a way to link it to a stone in another location, one that would allow him to read any book within a set area.

Like the Hogwarts Library.

It was an imperfect solution. The biggest downside to the spell would be if someone to physically take the book Alexander was trying to read out of the library, as it would exit the spell's range and thus vanish. Another downside was that copyright protection spells very easily defeated it, meaning he would have to dispel the protection spells for the whole library if he wanted it to succeed. As almost all of the books were protected with one spell or another, most of the library was still unavailable on his stone tablet.

Alexander still added the spell to his stone tablet, finding it useful as it meant he could read the unprotected books he had stored in his secret rooms, from anywhere in the castle. Being able to check reference guides or course books at a moment's notice was far too useful to pass up to any Ravenclaw. His notes were also always viewable, although Alexander wished he could use the tablet to take notes, but reasoned it would be impossible until he figured out the storage issue.

Realizing that his stone tablet was vulnerable, he began to enchant it, first casting a spell on it to take the appearance of a book, before adding another spell on top of that to make people see what they expected. If someone saw him reading in class, it would only look as though he was reading the coursebook, and not something else. The downside to this spell was that those with a significant will power, or studied Occlumency, would be unaffected and would see the tablet. Still, Alexander viewed it as worth the risk.

All in all, his first two months at Hogwarts were already a success. Not having the shadows of bullies loom over him made learning magic far more enjoyable, especially since he was able to sleep through the night without being pulled from his bed. Alexander was enjoying himself, even if he had to stand out in the cold with the rest of Hogwarts, as they waited for two foreign schools.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Ignoring the fog created by every breath, Alexander focused his eyes on the skies above the Forbidden Forest, tracking a large, dark shape approaching. The students of Hogwarts had been outside for close to an hour, corralled there by their professors, and organized into lines that only grew chaotic as time went on. Alexander gleefully stood on the edge, as far away as possible from his year mates who shot him the occasional dirty look.

Fortunately, it seemed as though their wait was over. The shape grew larger, revealing a massive carriage, pulled by some rather magnificent Abraxan. Despite the chaotic nature of the flight, the beasts and their cargo landed smoothly on the grounds of Hogwarts.

A startled cry drew everyone's attention to the lake. The mast of a ship rose from the water, connected to an overtly magical ship, as no non-magical vessel would be curved in that way, nor arrive in such a manner. It pulled up alongside the shore and a long plank extended, obviously magical in some regard.

As the two vessels disgorged their occupants, the students of Hogwarts became very animated at the sight of foreign witches and wizards. Alexander was more interested in their transport, and he desperately wanted to tear them apart to study the magic that crafted them. He wondered if he could convince the schools to share their secrets, as he followed the rest of the students into the Great Hall for a feast.

Alexander was briefly surprised to find his elbow nudged by one of his year mates, Padma Patil, who was giving him a cross look. "Finally noticed us, haven't you? We need to stick together to present a unified front to the foreigners." Past her, the rest of the Ravenclaw fourth years were giving him upset looks.

Mindful that the other schools were now entering the hall, Alexander whispered, "where was that mentality in our first year? House of Ravens? Craven cowards is more like it."

Ignoring the offended looks on their faces, Alexander stood, offering his seat to a Beauxbaton's wizard clad in blue. The student nodded gratefully and collapsed shivering into the seat, thoroughly distracting Alexander's year mates as they found themselves moving down the table to accommodate the rest of the Beauxbatons students who followed their compatriot.

Moving aside to allow some Drumstrang students to pass, Alexander made his way to the front of the Great Hall, uncomfortably close to the staff table, and sat in an open seat next to the Ravenclaw first years. They gave him curious looks but were far more interested in the foreign witches and wizards in the hall, and Alexander found himself fondly reminded of his brothers, David and Jack.

The meal started quickly, and as it progressed, Alexander was even more strongly reminded of his brothers as the first years began to talk excitedly about magic. It was almost painful for him to look upon them, knowing that this is what his first year should have been like, full of wonder and joy at the opportunity to learn magic, but that he was robbed of that. Still, he couldn't find it within himself to hold it against the first years, as they weren't even at Hogwarts when his bullies were.

One of the first years next to him tugged on his arm to get his attention. "What's your favorite spell?" she asked. The rest of the first years turn to look at them, waiting for his answer.

Alexander was surprised and found himself answering honestly. "I don't have one."

The first years gasped. "How can you not have a favorite spell?" a little boy protested. Alexander gave him a small smile.

"Magic is wonderful. How could you just pick one spell when there are hundreds that can do amazing things? Or brew potions to heal wounds? Or carve runes to protect yourself?" Alexander said passionately. The first years looked at him thoughtfully before agreeing.

"So what's the best branch of magic then?" another boy asked. Alexander gave him a crooked smile.

"None of them," he answered, much to their shock. They began to protest, and he raised his hands to silence them. "No branch of magic is better than the other. Do not fall into the trap of thinking that magic is just classes and homework or chores. It is a part of you, and it is meant to be explored."

"Is that why the other Ravenclaws don't like you? Because they view magic like homework and chores, and you don't?" the little girl who grabbed his attention asked.

Alexander swallowed, painfully aware of how innocent these children were and that the real answer would make them age far too soon. So he decided on a partial truth.

"They're incurious. It's a wretched thing for a human to be incurious, to not wonder at the world around them. If there are two things all of you should know, it is always to ask questions, and to enjoy magic," he said. He pulled out his wand and waved it carefully, transfiguring some of the food on their plate to form miniature figures than he then animated to dance around their plate.

The first years giggled as they played with their now magical food, and the sounds drew the ears of some of the other patrons in the Great Hall. Some Beauxbatons witches giggled at the sight of the first years, smiling fondly. But it was the staff's table that drew Alexander's eye, and the disproving glare Professor McGonagall was shooting him.

He raised his goblet back at her. This was the best feast ever.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander was annoyed that they wouldn't be permitted to study the runes on the Goblet of Fire, the staff citing it to be dangerous and that they wanted nobody to tamper with it. That not even twenty-four hours later, four names were revealed for a three-person tournament, should have made it evident that that plan was a failure from the go. That Harry Potter was named as the fourth champion briefly surprised Alexander, as he figured it would have been a Slytherin who figured out a way to bypass the age line. In any case, Alexander was more annoyed that he wouldn't be able to study the goblet than he was at a fellow fourth-year being named champion.

Which was why he spent the following weekend out on the grounds, enjoying the sunny weather as he sketched the vessels Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrived in. He had approached both schools earlier that day and asked about their construction and the spells and runes used. Neither had been accomodating and had declined him asking about possible tours being offered in the future.

Alexander sat under a lone tree near Hogwarts, sketching the two vessels. He made sure to note what runes and spells could be useful on them, as well as where they would most likely be located. He was just hypothesizing about the internal runes to negate inertia on the Beauxbatons Carriage when a shadow covered his parchment.

Looking up, he was surprised to find the first year Ravenclaws, clutching their bookbags with bashful looks. "Can we study with you?" one of the girls asked. "The other Ravenclaws just cite facts and books at us. You made magic fun at the feast."

Alexander was both shocked yet unsurprised. He put away his sketch, and stood up, giving the first years a reassuring smile. "Of course. Does everyone have their wands?"

They all nodded. "Great, leave your bookbags here and grab your wands. We'll have a practical lesson."

As they did as he instructed, Alexander pulled out his dead wand and summoned a handful of stones from the nearby lake. He transfigured them in a similar fashion as the food at the feast, making a dozen rough stone figures. Another spell smoothed out their rough surface, making them easier to handle. The first years joined him.

"Alright, everyone grab one. I'm going to teach you two spells, and then we're going to use them to play a game."

Alexander guided them through wand movements and pronunciation of an animation charm he found in his second year. It was relatively simple to cast and didn't require much magical power, because it instead relied entirely on the caster's will power and focus. Alexander had discovered it was used by Charm's Masters to gauge the ability of their students, as novices needed to act out the motions they wanted to be done, while masters of the spell could make the animated object act without their physical movement.

He was unsurprised that the first years only needed a few minutes to get their soldiers to mimic their commands. He then quickly taught them one of the Seven Free Transfiguration Spells, designed explicitly for inanimate to inanimate matter, that allowed the witch or wizard casting it to create anything out of a similar sized base material. He instructed the first years to transfigure swords, shields, and spears out of stones for their soldiers and stepped back to watch.

Unknown to any of the first years, the mastery of the Seven Free Transfiguration Spells was required to gain a Transfiguration Mastery. The spells wouldn't even be mentioned until their seventh year, and only then to students who showed exceptional ability for one single reason: The Ministry of Magic didn't want people to know about them.

Apparently, a society where being able to create the perfect robe for themselves out of a pile of scrap cloth was considered horrifying to the tax collectors at the Ministry. They had banned the spells for general use in the 1700s, had them repealed five years later in what was known at the Transfiguration Riots, and then quietly discouraged their teaching ever since to protect their source of income.

After all, if you could transfigure everything you need, why would you need money?

Alexander didn't care for any of that, and he had no issue in teaching a group of first years a spell that would give any Ministry of Magic Tax Collector a heart attack. That said students could make rough, stone weapons the size of toothpicks, perfect for their soldiers, was only icing on the cake.

After all the Ravenclaw first years had armed their soldiers, he had them space out in a circle and cast their animation charms on their soldiers. Alexander felt a pained smile come across his face as the excited children quickly figured out how to make their soldiers walk, looking far too much like his younger brothers David and Jack for his liking. He was about to walk away to leave them to their play when he felt another tug on his robes.

"Can we play too?" a Gryffindor first year asked. He was surrounded by his year mates in Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, with a little group of Slytherins further back looking on curiously.

Alexander Dantes felt like a little piece of his heart die at the Gryffindor's question. Did the kid think he would say no? To tell him to get lost, that this was a Ravenclaw only activity? Considering the look on his face, and the faces of his friends, they must have. Which only made Alexander more sure of his answer than ever.

"Come over here, guys!" Alexander called to the Ravenclaw first years. They joined the group quickly enough. Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff students looked up at him expectantly, and Alexander promptly realized something was wrong with this. Looking up, he saw it.

"You too, Slytherin!" he called out, waving them over. They slowly obeyed, and soon enough, Alexander had dozens of first years surrounding him. He turned to the Ravenclaws. "I'm going to make more stone soldiers, could you guys show everyone else how to make stone weapons?"

The first years nodded and obediently began to teach their year mates happily. Soon, the entire group was shouting in mangled Latin, and Alexander was quick to correct them where he could. While they practiced making their weapons, Alexander summoned more stones and created more stone soldiers for the children to play with. He quickly handed them out and got everyone's attention.

"Alright, does everyone have their weapons?" A sea of eager and smiling faces looked back at him, holding out their weapons for him to see. "Great! Now we're going to learn the animation charm, everyone form a circle and make sure you have space between you and the next person!"

As the children eagerly obeyed, Alexander enjoyed the moment. This was what he loved. Magic and seeing others excited about learning it. No focus on homework, no grades, just magic. These first years were more excited about magic than the rest of Hogwarts combined, in Alexander's opinion.

He quickly taught them the incantation and had them practicing with the animation charm. As he slowly walked around the circle, correcting wand movements and pronunciation, he cast Color-Changing Charms on the stone soldiers to match the student's house. The Ravenclaw students cheered on their year mates, encouraging them, and it was only a few minutes later that all had accomplished the spell but a lone Slytherin first year. She was cheered on by a Hufflepuff and Gryffindor student on either side of her, and when her stone soldier staggered to its feet, they all cheered.

Alexander let them play for a little while, getting used to moving the stone soldier around with their bodies and magic. But as his eyes fell upon a log in the middle of the circle, he had a devilish idea, and he quickly transfigured it. Calling out, he got everyone's attention.

"Now that you've all learned the spells, it's time to put them to good use! Your task? Defeat the beast!" Alexander roared, and the wooden griffin matched him as he cast the animation charm on it, coming to life. It stretched its wings and knocked a nearby soldier away with one paw. The first years shrieked in delight and moved their soldiers to attack.

Alexander could not describe the battle to anyone if he tried. At one point a soldier lept on the back of the griffin, attempting to cut off its head with an admirably sharp sword, before being thrown off. A group of Gryffindors and Slytherins sent their soldiers in, attacking each leg, and sending wooden chips flying with each strike before being brushed away. A clump of soldiers tried to rally in a massive fighting force but were tangled when the griffin lept at them, sending them all to the ground.

The stone soldiers fell out of play when their castors became tired, but the first years stuck around to cheer on those still in. It came down to one final Hufflepuff, her cheeks red with sweat and exhaustion, but a fierceness on her face that rivaled the griffin she fought. By this time, the griffin was missing both of its wings and many of its claws but still screeched angrily at the single, defying soldier. Alexander sent it leaping forward, high in the air to crash on the soldier from above.

The soldier shook with the Hufflepuff's exhaustion but stood firm. It raised its stone spear high under her command, and at just the right angle, causing the crude spear to pierce deep into the griffin's chest. Alexander made it screech pitifully, before finally succumbing to its wounds and collapsing, defeated.

The first years cheered and eagerly surrounded their victorious Hufflepuff, giving her hugs and pats on the back. But it was the cheering crowd behind Alexander that surprised him, causing him to turn to see a small contingent of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students watching, with a scattering of Hogwarts students mixed in. Daphne and Tracey clapped among them, and next to Daphne was a younger girl who could only be her sister.

Alexander turned back to the first years who were looking at the crowd in surprise. "Quickly now!" he said, catching their attention. "Line up and bow to your audience!"

The first years obey, and the clapping intensified. Alexander gestured for the Hufflepuff victor to step forward and to bow again, causing a resurgence of cheers. The poor girl was so happy she was crying, but no one had the heart to mock her. Ignoring the crowd for the moment, Alexander gestured for the first years to come closer.

"Keep your soldiers," he told them. "And keep practicing those two spells and playing with your magic. Don't ever become disinterested in magic and view it as homework, like those poor fools," he said, gesturing with his thumb to the dispersing crowd behind him.

The first years left in an excited group, eagerly talking about their battle, the spells, and the magic. Alexander couldn't help but feel faintly pleased with it all, which was why when Daphne, Tracey, and the younger Greengrass appeared, he even greeted them with a smile.

Daphne and Tracey were taken aback by it, but the younger Greengrass wasn't. She was nearly vibrating with excitement as she asked, "can you teach me that too?"

If Alexander were a naive man, he would have said that Daphne Greengrass gave her sister an eye-roll. Fortunately, he was wise enough to keep that observation to himself. "Greengrass, Davis, little person I don't know," he said, greeting them with a nod.

"I'm Astoria," she said with a pout. She turned to her sister. "Daphne, tell him to teach me!"

Tracey snickered. "Good luck with that, Astoria. This is Alexander Dantes. He just doesn't teach anyone who asks. You-"

"-Okay," Alexander said. Daphne and Tracey both seemed to be thrown off by his easy agreement.

"Yes!" Astoria said, clapping her hands in joy.

"What?" Tracey asked in outrage. She then gained a considering look on her face. "Daphne, tell him to teach me all of his secrets."

Daphne just gave them all a bewildered look.

Alexander, taking pity on her, summoned a rock and handed it to Astoria. "Transfigure this into a stone soldier."

Astoria looked at the stone unimpressed. "But you made all theirs!" she protested.

"They're first years, new to magic. You've been here for at least a year. You should have touched on the spells near Easter last year if I remember correctly," Alexander explained. Astoria seemed to remember something about that vaguely and began to mutter over her stone, wand in hand. It was at this moment Professor McGonagall made her presence known.

"Dantes!" she screeched. She plowed through the group of older students, sending wizards and witches from three schools running from her path. "What's this I've heard about gladiator matches on the grounds?"

Alexander sighed and looked at Daphne and Tracey. "Observe, the reason why I don't pay attention in Transfiguration."

The two Slytherins were saved from replying by Professor McGonagall skidding to a stop before them. "Explain yourself!" she demanded.

"Well, the only thing that was hurt was that log," Alexander shrugged, pointing to the remains of his griffin. The spells had long since faded, leaving it to crumble apart into a pile of kindle. "Although I don't think I asked the crowd for their vote on whether it should be spared or not. My bad."

Professor McGonagall flared angrily like a bull. "You think you're funny, don't you. I've lived through decades of pranksters, hooligans, and ne'er-do-wells! Trying to start blood sports on Hogwart's grounds, in front of the visiting schools! Have you no shame? You are already a liar and a cheat, would you add attention seeker to that?"

Alexander's face only grew colder the longer the professor talked, become positively glacial when she mentioned the foreign schools. The visiting students began to scurry away, their opinions of Hogwarts now forever tainted by the actions of one ridiculous professor who wouldn't even bother to get her facts straight before acting. A quintessential Gryffindor.

Daphne tried to speak up in Alexander's defense. "Professor, I saw what happened, and that's not-"

Alexander cut her off, "-no. Is there anything else, professor?"

Professor McGonagall glared down at him, but he met her gaze unrepentantly. "No. If I see or hear about more of your stunts, I'll have you in detention so quickly you'll think I used a switching spell!"

And with that, the stern woman walked off, leaving the four students in her dust.

"Wow, I've never seen Professor McGonagall that mad, not even when O'Blair set Mitchell's head on fire," Astoria said, her eyes round and a lumpy stone soldier in her hands.

Alexander ignored her comment and told her the two spells to animate it and give it weapons. He watched patiently as she practiced it, politely correcting her when she made a mistake.

"Why didn't you let me tell her what happened?" Daphne asked. Tracey was shooting looks between the pair as if she couldn't figure something out.  
Alexander sighed. "Because it wouldn't change anything. She's spent three years building me up in her head as a liar and a cheat despite the facts being shoved in her face repeatedly. There's no need to drag down her opinion of you with mine."

Daphne was silent for a long time. "You're an odd man, Dantes."

Alexander gave her a tired smile. "I think after what we've been through, you can call me Alex."

Daphne gave him a small nod. "You may call me Daphne, Alex." She paused, considering his name. "Why not Alexander?"

Astoria distracted the trio by getting her stone soldier to dance, holding its spear aloft. Alexander took this moment to slip away, a troubled expression on his face and in his heart. The reason why he asked Daphne to call him by Alex, a name only his family used was simple:

It felt right.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

_It was only a few days later that Mandy Brocklehurst and Terry Boot approached Alexander in the library. Both looked upset to be there, which was a rather amusing look for two Ravenclaws to have in a library. Still, he guessed their unhappiness stemmed more from having to interact with him than the books._

"Dantes," Terry greeted with a forced nod. He seemed to be waiting for Alexander to reply.

"Boot," Alexander replied. He hoped that he sounded as disinterested as he felt. Judging by the pained expression on Mandy's face, he reasoned so.

"We were hoping you'd wear one of these," she said, holding out a small button for him.

He gave it a short glance before snorting. _Potter stinks, how quaint, _Alexander thought. Outloud, he merely said, "no thanks."

Both Ravenclaws blinked in confusion at him. "But you've got to," Terry tried to say.

"Why?"

"Because of house unity! School unity! We've got to support Cedric!"

Alexander finally looked up from his book. "So you want me to support a champion in another house, to spite a champion in a different house, for no other reason than because you think I should support our house, and thus the school, with the rest of you?"

"Yes!" Terry shouted, pleased that Alexander finally understood.

"No," Alexander said, returning to his book. Daphne Greengrass walked past the two stunned Ravenclaws to join Alexander at his table.

"Everything alright here?" she asked, her expression calm, but Alexader noted that she gripped her wand tightly under the table. He couldn't help but feel mildly touched that she was willing to help him without any prior knowledge.

"Yes, Boot and Brocklehurst were just leaving," Alexander said. Mandy seemed to understand he wasn't going to take the ridiculous button and finally lowered her hand. "They seemed to think I would like to wear a button for some forsaken reason."

Daphne gave a polite laugh, cold and mocking, but her wand was still trained on the pair. Alexander gently nudged his knee into hers, to tell her to relax. He was relieved when she did, hiding her wand on her person.

Terry, meanwhile, glared at Daphne. "Should have known not to bother. Everyone knows the Greengrasses are Dark," he spat. Daphne tensed and went for her wand again.

"Dark? I didn't know you were sacrificing virgins under the full moon," Alexander said mockingly, to disarm the tenseness of the situation. Daphne wrinkled her nose but relaxed in her seat. "You should have invited me."

"Of course not, we're not barbarians. We eat them for supper, to promote longevity," Daphne said haughtily. "I'll invite you to our next buffet. It's to die for."

"You're both Dark!" Terry whispered in horror. Mandy didn't seem to grasp Terry's horror.

"Thanks, I've been working on my tan," Alexander deadpanned. Terry grabbed a confused Mandy's arm and pulled her away. "Well, that was a waste of five minutes of my life. Thank you, Daphne."

"You're welcome, Alex," Daphne said, and a small thrill went through him at her saying his name.

The pair read silently for a moment before Daphne whispered to Alexander. "Tracey doesn't know everything."

Alexander turned a page. "What doesn't she know?"

Daphne seemed reluctant to talk but visibly steeled herself before doing so. "She only knows that I saw you doing wandless magic. Not that I was taken and why, or by whom, or how they were," she hesitated, "taken care of."

"So why did you tell her about me but not the rest?" Alexander asked, curious.

"I came back to Hogwarts shocked. I couldn't hide it well enough. Fortunately, she seemed to buy it when I said it was because I saw you throwing around magic without your wand like it was candy."

The pair was silent, lost in their thoughts. It was Alexander who broke it this time. "You need someone to talk to about it. You want it to be her, your best friend, but don't know how to approach it."

Daphne twisted so fast in her seat to look at him he heard a crack as her neck popped. "How did you figure that out so fast?" she hissed.

Alexander shrugged as he turned another page. "If you were going to talk to me about it, you would have done so. You wouldn't have gone to your sister as she's too young to have her innocence ruined. Tracey is more mature, trustworthy enough, but you're worried that she'll look at you differently once she finds out what happened. She will."

Her fingers dug into his arm, in warning or shock he didn't know, but Alexander wasn't going to back down on this. "It's not a good or a bad thing. She'll know that you were taken yes, attacked, but that you carried this weight for months by yourself. She'll feel pity then sympathy then compassion, well if she's any half-way decent human being that is. Which brings us to you." Alexander snapped his book shut and turned to look Daphne in the eye.

"You're worried she'll look at you as this fragile thing to be protected, that she won't treat you like a person anymore. Or that she'll say it was your fault, that you were asking for it, am I right on any of these?" Alexander asked.

Daphne didn't answer, nor did he need her to. Her trembling body was answer enough, so he continued. "Daphne, there is one crucial question you're not asking here, so I'll ask it for you: Is Tracey your friend, someone you'd trust with your deepest, most intimate secrets?"

Alexander knew he was asking a Slytherin if they trusted someone, an exercise in futility for most, but he was also asking a young woman if she had faith in her best friend. Daphne gave him a small nod in return.

"Then go to her, tell her you need to talk, go somewhere private, and don't stop talking until you get everything off of your chest. It'll hurt, make you feel horrible, and it will be very unpleasant to live through again, but then you will feel free. Trust me on that, Daphne."

Daphne didn't reply, merely grabbing her bookbag and almost running away. Alexander didn't feel pity at a once broken soul or envy that she had someone she could confide in. After all, he had been broken once too.

He just hoped her path to healing would be less painful than his own.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: How are you guys liking the story so far?


	9. Year 4 Part 3

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The weekend arrived all too quickly, and with it the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. Having no desire to spend his precious study and research time in an unimpressive village, Alexander was instead tucking into a large breakfast so he could reasonably skip lunch. Books were important after all, and he didn't like crumbs getting between the pages.

He had barely finished his meal when he found himself surrounded by a sea of grinning faces. Looking up, he met the eyes of Astoria Greengrass, who had sat at the Ravenclaw table across from him. In her hands, and the hands of the first and second years around her lay their transfigured stone soldiers.

"Can you make the griffin again?" she asked, her eyes bright and her smile brighter. Looking up in the smiling faces of the boys and girls, Alexander was again, painfully reminded of his younger brothers, and mentally cursed the Hogwarts students for playing on his weak spot like this.

"Fine," he said, and he had barely finished the word when a dozen small hands pulled him from his seat and out the front door. They returned to the scene of their previous battle, the broken log the only remnant of it, but before Alexander cast his spells on it, he had another idea. He waved the group closer.

"Since there are so many of you, I don't think it would be fair to the poor griffin to fight an army as fierce and experienced as you, especially this one," Alexander said, gesturing to the victorious Hufflepuff. She turned as red as a tomato but couldn't hide the smile that split her face. Alexander settled them down quickly.

"So instead, I'm going to teach you a basic digging spell, and you can use the transfiguration spell I taught you last time to make fortifications!"

"Fortifications?" a Slytherin asked. "For what?"

"Capture the flag! We'll split into four teams, you'll each have a flag to defend, and if you remove a stone soldier's head, they'll be considered out for that round."

"But that'll kill them!" a Gryffindor girl protested, hugging her stone soldier to her chest tightly. The small crowd giggled at her.

"You can use a repairing charm to fix your soldier, he'll be fine," Alexander said, trying to give her a reassuring smile. It must have worked since she relaxed. "Now, here's the spell."

Five minutes later, he had to put out three minor mud fights and separate two second years after they tried to hex one another. But considering the interesting and odd castles, moats, and walls the children made on the grounds of Hogwarts, he reasoned that it was pretty successful. He quickly transfigured four stones into colored handkerchiefs and handed them out to the four teams.

"Ready? Begin!" he shouted, and chaos ensued as dozens of soldiers rushed the no-man's land between the four teams. A flash of spellfire alerted Alexander that someone wasn't willing to play by the rules. "Hey, now! No spells! Just control your soldier this round!"

There was no real winner or loser that first game. The first and second years were having far too much fun with their soldiers to focus or plan on getting the flag, and it ended in a duel between two soldiers, a Ravenclaw and a Gryffindor. They both managed to knock their own heads off, which brought on a round of laughter. Alexander called the first game a draw, repaired the dead, and had everyone go back to their starting positions.

The second round was far more exciting and ended in a Slytherin victory after three second-year Slytherins covered their soldiers in mud as a disguise and simply walked into the enemy bases for the flags. The Gryffindors unsurprising called foul, but Alexander reasoned it was a viable strategy and recommended the students figure out a way to overcome it.

Unfortunately, the third game was interrupted by a large group of Slytherin upper years.

"What's all this?" Adrian Pucey asked in mocking disbelief. "Who told you that you could cast magic on the grounds?"

The first and second years were quiet until one Gryffindor second year pointed at Alexander. "He did."

Feeling utterly annoyed that the little idiot didn't have the good sense to remain quiet, Alexander instead chose to focus on the issue at hand. "Hello, Pucey. Out for a stroll with your friends?"

Adrian Pucey gained a decidedly unkind smile as he looked at Alexander. "You know, we were? But then we saw this mixing of blood and thought to ourselves that this just wouldn't do, not one bit!"

Alexander realized several uncomfortable truths at this moment. There was not a professor to be seen, there were no other students around, and that Adrian Pucey and his little gang of thugs wanted to spill blood. Specifically...

"You Mudbloods should know your place," a sixth year Slytherin sneered, raising his wand and pointing it at a Hufflepuff. His mouth began to move.

Alexander knew he couldn't allow these kids to be hurt. He had been arrogant to think that the other Pure-bloods would just let this gathering occur unmolested. Daphne Greengrass had lulled him into false security, not intentionally or maliciously, but he had fallen into the trap that there was nothing that could be done to hurt him anymore. He was wrong.

Despite being able to cast a shield, he knew he could not. Alexander needed something bigger, something that would gain the attention of this mob and focus it all on him. So he rushed forward and slugged a random Slytherin in the face.

It hurt. To Alexander, it felt like he broke a bone in his hand, but it did what it needed to, sending the sixth year to the ground in a howl of blood. The first and second years scattered and ran for the safety of the castle.

Pucey and his gang didn't focus on them, though. Their rage was well and truly stoked, and they focused on Alexander. And as one, they charged.

Alexander wished he could say he won that fight, that he emerged as a hero to the first and second years, and sent the Pure-bloods running for the hills. It would be a terrible lie.

The only saving grace was that it was Professor Moody who came upon them and forcibly separated the group. Despite being outnumbered, Alexander could still stand under his own power, although he couldn't say much else. He had to hold his arm awkwardly as it was now broken, and he found it painful to talk after someone kicked him in the jaw. Still, seeing three boys groaning on the ground from the hits he managed to land made him feel like it wasn't a complete waste.

"Get to the Hospital Wing, lad," Professor Moody quietly ordered. "Good effort, but next time pick your fights a bit better."

Wishing to disagree that the fight was the best possible scenario but physically unable to voice anything, Alexander limped to the Hospital Wing. _It could have been worse,_ he thought. _McGonagall could have been the one to find me._

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Despite his antagonistic relationship with many of the staff at Hogwarts, Madame Pomfrey was professional enough to heal his wounds, even if she did seem rather vicious with her wand. Alexander bore it as well as he could, though, and soon enough, he was lying in a bed, left to recover.

He was just beginning to wonder if he should call Mopsy to retrieve his stone tablet from his room when Hermione Granger of all people walked into the Hospital Wing. She seemed just as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

"Alexander? What happened?" she asked. He shrugged and immediately regretted the action after it caused a wave of pain.

"Oh, you know. Getting the full Hogwarts experience," he said, flinching at the pain still coursing through him. "I wanted to see what a night in the Hospital Wing felt like."

Hermione seemed unimpressed with him. "There was a first-year shouting that Pucey tried to kill you. He ran through the library, and Madame Pince used her magic to stick him to the wall until he calmed down."

"Sounds like her," Alexander replied. Hermione glared at him. "What?"

"Don't you what me! Is it true? Did Pucey try to kill you?" Hermione demanded. Any reply Alexander would have given was cut off by Daphne, Tracey, and Astoria entering the Hospital Wing and making a beeline to his bed. Hermione was visibly unsettled by the three witches and edged to the side.

"I'm pleased to see you're not dead, Alex," Daphne said casually.

Alexander couldn't help it. "Reports of my death are greatly exaggerated. Ow." He flinched as Hermione smacked his leg.

Hermione frowned disapprovingly at him, but it was nothing compared to the look she gave the three Slytherins. "What are you doing here? Did you come to check on Pucey's victim? To report back to your cronies?"

Alexander bristled at that. But it was nothing compared to the look Daphne and Tracey gave Hermione. If Alexander tried to describe it, he would liken it to stepping on a dung beetle, dung included, and finding it almost too much of an inconvenience to clean up, but knowing you had to otherwise it would stink. It was a rather expressive look.

"Unlike certain people, Granger, we Slytherins have loyalty. Or is your house no longer ostracising Potter?" Daphne asked in a cutting voice. Hermione bristled.

"Where's your supposed loyalty then? Shouldn't you be supporting Pucey?" she demanded.

Tracey laughed, cold and mockingly, while Daphne merely raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Despite what you think, Granger, not all Slytherins are friends. Some of us appreciate an intelligent conversation. Although, you wouldn't know anything about that considering who you keep company with," Tracey said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked, offended.

Tracey rubbed her chin in thought, but Alexander could see how she used it to hide a smirk. "Well, Potter isn't very impressive academically, despite rumors of his misadventures. Although Weasley was surprising this year. Who knows, maybe he wisened up and realized you were a dreadful friend?"

Hermione ran from the room, completely forgetting about Alexander or anything else. "That was a little cruel," Alexander told Tracey. She shrugged unrepentantly.

"It's the truth. I'm not going to hug her and tell her she's a special little witch like everyone else."

"Fair," Alexander conceded. He wasn't either. "So what do I owe to this visit anyway? I doubt you came here just to tweak Granger's nose."

Astoria, who had been the quietest Alexander had ever seen her, stepped forward. "I just wanted to say thanks, for the spells and all. It was fun while it lasted. It's a shame the other Slytherins ruined it though, I don't think any of the other houses will want to play anymore," she said, a great look of sadness on her face. "Thanks anyway, Alexander."

Tracey, however, smelled blood. "Alexander? When did he permit you to use his name so familiarly?" she asked with a shark-like grin. Astoria blushed and ran out of the Hospital Wing. "Oh, no you don't!"

Tracey chased off after Astoria, leaving Alexander and Daphne alone. "Thank you for teaching Astoria. You're a surprisingly good teacher," she said.

Alexander shrugged but regretted the pain a moment later. "Magic is meant to be learned. Curiosity should be fed. They wanted to learn, so I had no problems helping them, but most of our classmates could never appreciate such an approach to magic."

"Will you teach me?" Daphne asked, causing Alexander to blink in surprise.

"I would have thought you're far past making a stone soldier or making it move," he replied uncertainly.

"Not with that, although the spells you were showing everyone were fascinating. No, with wandless magic." Daphne's eyes, bluer than the sky above, looked at him desperately. He realized with a start that she was afraid to be a victim once more, that she'll be unable to defend herself.

"I don't know how," he said. Daphne's eyes scrunched in confusion.

"What do you mean? How did you learn?" she asked. Alexander sighed.

"On the first night after we were sorted, I was dragged from my bed by two seventh years and spent the night being cursed. At the end of it, they snapped my wand," he explained slowly. Despite it only being a few years ago, the memory of pain from that night had already faded somewhat. That didn't make it any easier.

Daphne had a horrified look on her face, and her hand reached into her robes to no doubt clutch her wand. "You never got it repaired? Or get a new one?"

"I tried. I went to Professor Flitwick the next day, but my accidental magic fixed the wand. He didn't believe me and told the rest of the teachers I was a liar. The first few weeks of our first year, I couldn't cast magic, until it finally burst out of me in Charms. The rest, I'm sure you could figure out from there."

Daphne was silent as she digested that, and Alexander settled back into his pillows. Between one thought and the next, he found himself falling asleep, and his dreams made his sleep restless. Alexander wouldn't remember them when he woke, but if he did, he would be unsurprised to find himself being attacked on all sides. After all, that's what his reality felt like to him.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The day of the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament arrived, and Alexander, like the rest of the students, was sitting in the stands. It was a large arena, and he briefly felt amusement at the idea that the four champions would have to fight one another in gladiator combat. But then a group of witches and wizards herded a dragon out onto the field.

As Ludo Bagman narrated Cedric Diggory's substandard performance, Alexander kept his eyes focused on the dragon. His conversation with Daphne fresh in his mind, he remembered the feeling of holding his wand in his hands, feeling the heat of the wand in his hand, and how it made his blood pump. It almost felt like he was flying on a jet of hot air, soaring high above his problems and worries.

The dragon was trapped in a small space, trying desperately to defend that which belonged to it, and Alexander felt a painful sense of kinship with the creature. He could see a majestic beauty in her features, the wild ferocity not at all dulled by it, and for the first time in his life, Alexander found a magical being to model himself after.

To be as powerful, fierce, and free as a dragon. To be able to fly where ever he pleased, to have the freedom to act as he willed. But even as he thought about it, he knew he'd never be a dragon. They were still beholden to masters, caged for their own safety, and harvested for their useful parts. They were even more imprisoned than he. He would emulate some parts of her, but not all.

Diggory had long since completed his task, and Victor Krum was now walking out on the field to fight a different dragon. His performance was only marginally more interesting than Diggory's, the skill it took to his a dragon's eye from fifty paces no mean feat, but that was the only magic the Bulgarian cast. He grabbed a golden egg while the dragon was distracted, and left quickly when it smashed half its eggs.

Alexander watched with disgust as dragon handlers had to stun the magnificent beast after it realized what it had done. It was pointlessly cruel, the keening wail of the dragon heartwrenching, but none of the witches and wizards watching seemed to care. It made Alexander sneer in contempt at his fellow wizards.

Fleur Delacour walked onto the field next, a wave of cheers and whistles from the audience greeting her. She was beautiful in her blue-tinted robes, and the light caught her hair in a dazzling fashion. The dragon she was to fight guarded its eggs jealously, no doubt smelling the fresh scent of shattered eggs in the arena.

Thus far, Alexander had been unimpressed by the magical skill put on by the champions. Which was why when Delacour began to weave an enchantment around the arena, he felt a small amount of respect toward the French Champion. But then she activated its effect, and a wave of drowsiness washed over the crowd, flooding over and around Alexander's Occlumency barriers.

As he looked at the dragon and crowd slowly falling asleep, Alexander couldn't help but find the whole situation amusing. He laughed, loud and clear, and the result woke the dragon who was staring at the now terrified champion who was in its nest. It snorted a blast of flame at her, sending Delacour scurrying backward to escape the heat with her prize.

Across the arena, Alexander could see Daphne Greengrass sitting next to Astoria and Tracey, with the other Slytherins. While the latter two were stifling yawns, Daphne was focused intently on Alexander, a small smile on her lips. He nodded at her but was distracted by the fourth dragon that was brought out, the Hungarian Horntail.

It was larger and more ferocious than the other three dragons by far. That it was to be set against Harry Potter gave Alexander mixed feelings.

It would no doubt be an exciting match up for an experienced wizard, but Potter was only a fourth-year student, whose only noteworthy achievements were prodigious Quidditch skills. What was he going to do, fly against the apex predator of the sky?

Apparently, that was exactly what Harry Potter chose to do, and somehow it worked out for him perfectly. Alexander privately considered the possibility of someone fixing the task, as the idea of a fourteen-year-old wizard out flying a creature who literally terrorized wizards from the air for centuries, was ludicrous.

It'd make a good fantasy novel, though. Might even get a few books out of it.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander was in the library a few days later when Hermione Granger approached him. She sat down uninvited, and placed a parchment on top of his book, interrupting his reading.

"Oh, look. A paper," Alexander deadpanned as his eyes began to read it. "What is spew?"

Hermione's face twisted unpleasantly. "It's not spew! It's S.P.E.W. The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare! I was hoping you'd join so we could end the abuse of House-elves! They're treated like slaves, you know."

Alexander couldn't help the incredulous look he gave her, not even when he saw that it offended her. "You don't know a single thing about House-elves," he finally said. Hermione bristled in anger.

"I know they shouldn't be slaves!" she almost shouted. "They're living, thinking beings just like you and me."

"Uh, no, they're not," Alexander said. He couldn't accurately say what House-elves were, only that it involved large amounts of some mineral and that spilling human blood on one was bad. Things would become lively, for lack of a better word.

Hermione grew red with rage and snatched her parchment back up. "I can't believe a fellow muggle-born would condone slavery! I thought better of you!" she shouted, before stomping away.

Alexander watched her go, slightly amused, and wondering if this whole thing had been a prank. Looking around to see if anyone had been watching, he only could see Victor Krum reading a book upside down, his eyes darting between the two muggle-born rapidly.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Alexander turned his attention back to his book. It was a historical text on ancient runic languages, and it made mentions to a Latin alphabet. The runes somehow lost power a few hundred years prior to the book's printing, which was already a few hundred years previous. Using some basic math skills, he placed it as right before the outbreak of the Black Plague in Europe.

Suddenly, Alexander's brain stalled as several facts lined up within his head simultaneously. The creation of a Philosopher's Stone should be impossible; it required the blood and magic of hundreds of thousands. Coincidentally, the creation of a runic language also required large amounts of blood, even more than a Philosopher's Stone. But you could also make the stone grow larger by feeding it more blood.

Alexander theorized that Nicholas Flamel somehow used the blood and magic that empowered the Latin alphabet, one of the most complete and known alphabets of the time, and condensed it into a singular object, otherwise known as the Philosopher's Stone. This drained the magic from the language, meaning no more runes to create magical effects with it, although somehow spoken words were spared from this. Perhaps Flamel's focus had only been on the written word or the method involved needed to have an example to take the magic from it. There would be no feasible way of saying thousands of words in a timely manner; thus, maybe he focused on the things that could be carved.

So Nicholas Flamel has his stone. But then he discovers the limitations: It uses its own mass to empower transfigurations, and every dose of Elixer of Life must also take an equal cost from it. Which led to Flamel trying to empower the stone further, using the Black Plague as a cover, and slaughtering thousands to harvest them for their blood and magic.

If Alexander was right, and he had no reason not to believe he was, then Nicholas Flamel was one of the oldest and most terrible Dark Lords to have ever lived. But this also raised another question in Alexander's mind, namely: Why hadn't Nicholas Flamel simply used a blood-replenishing potion to grow his own stone?

Alexander reasoned that it had to do with time and convenience. It took weeks to drain enough of his blood to even grow the shard as much as he had, which was inconvenient to do. It also wasn't a feasible option before 1934, when the potion was discovered, which meant that Flamel had spent centuries murdering tens of thousands to prolong his own life. He could only hope the old immortal hadn't discovered blood banks in the non-magical world, although he wondered if the blood would even be useable. Alexander had to enchant his blood to keep it fresh, after all.

He shut his book and pushed it to the side. It also raised the question of if Alexander could use a similar ritual to depower other runic languages to make a Philosopher's Stone from scratch. However, he quickly dismissed it as far too dangerous, as the Latin alphabet was well known and documented. Every existing runic language had gaps and holes in their alphabets, with new runes being discovered every once in a while. It would be a horrible idea to partly depower a runic inscription, only to find the rest of it became destabilized and exploded.

Alexander sighed. When did magic become so complicated?

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

A few weeks had passed, and the winter holidays were fast approaching. The halls of Hogwarts had never looked so festive, and even some of the professors were getting in on it. Professor McGonagall was not one such professor.

"Everyone, please stay behind a moment!" she called out to the fourth year Transfiguration class. Alexander reluctantly returned to his seat. "This year, Hogwarts will be hosting a Yule Ball for the fourth through seventh-year students. It'll be an opportunity for us to all, let our hair down."

A few giggles could be heard, which the professor ignored. "You will make sure to be on your best behavior," her sharp eyes found Alexander's, and he barely resisted the urge to scowl back, "as you'll be representing Hogwarts! Do not tarnish our name!"

The students left after that, Alexander the first one out the door. He had barely made it a few steps when he found himself accompanied by two Slytherin fourth years, Daphne and Tracey.

"Where are you off in a rush?" Tracey asked. She gained a teasing glint in her eye. "Already have somebody in mind to ask to the Yule Ball?"

Remembering his single disastrous attempted date with Hermione Granger the previous year, Alexander shuddered. "No. I'm not going. I'm on my way to post an owl to my family to see what we're doing for holidays this year."

That seemed to throw off both Slytherins. "You don't even want to go?" Tracey asked. Alexander shook his head.

"I can barely tolerate our classmates in class, why would I willingly spend time with them outside of it?"

"Point," Daphne said, an agreeable look on her face. "It still sounds like it could be fun, though."

Alexander shrugged. "I look forward to you telling me all about it then," he said. He didn't understand the annoyed look that crossed over Daphne's face, nor Tracey's smirk. "What?"

"Nothing," Tracey said in a singsong voice. "Well, I'll leave you to your letter, Dantes. Buh-bye!"

She skipped away, leaving Daphne and Alexander alone. "Your friend is weird," he said bluntly.

Daphne nodded. "So, you're really not going?"

"I hadn't intended to, why?" Alexander asked, generally curious. The silence stretched awkwardly as Daphne just stared at him. Finally, she shook her head.

"Forget it," she said, walking away. Alexander stood there, confused, unsure of why he felt like he missed something incredibly obvious. He'd ask his parents.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander scowled at the letter in his hands. He was such an idiot.

Daphne had been waiting for him to ask her. Expecting it even. But Alexander hadn't because he hadn't even thought about her in that way in the short time he'd known her.

His parents recommended apologizing. Despite knowing how uncomfortable it would be, he knew he should, especially since Daphne, Tracey, and even Astoria had been friendly to him this year. That it stemmed from Alexander saving Daphne at the end of the year was of little consequence, he now knew how he had messed up.

Alexander read the rest of the letter. His parents had taken the little enchanted stone he had mailed them and placed it in his room. Well, they did after David and Jack played around with his "magic rock" and broke a window. Neither of his brothers were happy about being grounded until Christmas, but Alexander was pleased he could now read all of the books he left at home, all the way from Hogwarts.

Unfortunately, Alexander wouldn't be returning home this year for Christmas. Alexander's brothers had come down with the chickenpox and were highly contagious. As he never had it as a child, his parents were reluctant to expose it to him, not knowing how it would react with his magic. Alexander understood and agreed, but found the news displeasing as now he would be staying at Hogwarts. It became much more critical to apologize now than ever.

Which was why he found himself searching for Daphne and Tracey instead of the other way around. Amusingly, he found them in the library, working on a Herbology essay that was due the following day.

"Dantes," Tracey said as he walked up. Daphne said nothing, and other than glancing at him, gave no indication she was even aware of Alexander's presence. "Getting ready to go home?"

Alexander felt his face twist at that but ignored Tracey for the moment. "I'd like to apologize, Daphne."

That seemed to stun the two witches, especially as it was so direct. Daphne even looked up from her essay in surprise, not noticing that she was dripping ink all over it.

"What?" Daphne asked in shock.

Alexander nodded before nodding to her essay. Looking down, Daphne cursed and hurriedly siphoned off the wet ink with her wand. A moment later, she pushed it aside to focus on Alexander fully.

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry," Alexander began. "I was an absolute berk about it, about not asking you to the Yule Ball, and I didn't intend to hurt your feelings. I know words can't make up for that, but I am willing to do anything to make it up to you."

Their little spot in the library was utterly silent as the two witches stared at him. Tracey's jaw had actually dropped as if she couldn't believe his audacity. Daphne looked faintly pleased but was trying to school her face into a more serious expression.

"Anything?" Daphne asked, and Tracey's jaw somehow dropped lower.

"You're forgiving him that quickly?" she hissed. Daphne waved her off.

"Anything," Alexander confirmed. Despite the circumstance of their first meeting, he found her friendship pleasant, and he wasn't going to lose that.

"You'll help me learn wandless magic?" she asked. "Without, you know, doing the thing that was done to you?"

"Done," Alexander agreed to that easily enough. Tracey dropped her quill.

A devilish smile graced Daphne's lips. "And you're taking Astoria with you to the ball. She wouldn't be able to get in otherwise."

Alexander frowned at that but nodded. "Is that all?"

"Yes," Daphne said, pulling her essay back to her. "Oh, and make sure you wear dark blue to match."

Tracey, who at this point had been whipping her head back and forth between the pair, snapped her head back to Daphne so fast it caused her hair to send her long-forgotten essay flying. She threw up her hands, crossed her arms, and sulked.

"Okay. We're good?" Alexander asked, wanting to make sure. Daphne smiled at him.

"We're good."

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	10. Year 4 Part 4

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

Despite his initial contempt for the Yule Ball, Alexander could admit to himself that it was a pleasant evening. And it all started with meeting Astoria Greengrass in the Great Hall.

He was waiting by the door that led to the dungeons when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he was surprised to find Astoria standing there, wearing a light blue dress and grinning up at him. He smiled back but looked at her dress in confusion.

"I thought Daphne said I was to wear dark blue?" he asked, tugging at the dress robes he had bought in Hogsmeade just a few days prior. "Give me a moment while I charm it to match."

"Oh, no you don't!" Astoria said, halting his hand with one of her own. "Daphne said not to let you draw your wand until after you met. She said, you might understand then."

Confused, Alexander obeyed. "Okay, but where is she then?"

"Oh, she'll meet us inside. Come on, let's go!" Astoria said, dragging him along.

Bemused, Alexander let her drag him into the Great Hall under Professor Mcgonagall's disproving glare. Inside it looked as though a winter wonderland had exploded all over the castle, with icicles and enchanted snow everywhere. The long tables that previously dominated the hall were replaced by dozens of smaller ones, surrounding a dance floor that looked warm and inviting. Alexander would have looked more but found Astoria dragging him to a table half-filled with witches and wizards.

As they approached, Alexander was surprised to find Daphne and Tracey there with two boys from Slytherin, Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini. While the witches smiled up at him, both boys scowled and pointedly ignored him, which suited Alexander just fine.

Alexander almost stumbled when Astoria pushed him into a seat next to her sister, claiming the empty place on his other side. He belatedly realized that Daphne was dressed in a gown of dark blue, with silver adornments rising from her hips, wrapping around her chest, and flaring over her shoulders. The overall effect was quite beautiful and made the normally attractive witch look quite stunning.

"Alex," she greeted warmly, the smallest hint of a smile on her lips.

"Daphne," he greeted back, bowing his head to pay proper respect to the beauty before him. "Is it too forward to tell you that your beauty would inspire artists for generations?"

She blushed, but it was Theodore Nott, who sat on her other side, who spoke up. "Spare me this horror until after the meal is over."

Alexander was confused and looked to Daphne. She leaned in to explain, and Alexander felt goosebumps form on his skin as the scent of lavender filled the air. "Tracey and I are acting as distractions for Theo and Blaise tonight. Just ignore them until the dancing starts."

Looking at the two boys, Alexander belatedly realized they were holding hands under the table. Understanding the implications, and remembering the reaction that Herbert Burke and Marvin Fawley received two years ago, Alexander turned his attention to Astoria.

"So what do you think of the Great Hall?" he asked, and the delighted second year began to explain how utterly marvelous everything was.

The night passed quickly, and Alexander wished it could have gone on forever. Tracey left with Nott and Zabini, dancing with the two boys and hiding them from any curious eyes, leaving Alexander to dance with Daphne and Astoria. Despite his previous concerns about being near his classmates, Alexander found the event tolerable, even when Draco Malfoy of all people intruded on their group to ask Astoria for a dance.

Alexander and Daphne swayed quietly to the music as the latter kept a watchful eye on her sister. Tracey had long since vanished with a boy from Beauxbatons, and Nott and Zabini left not long after. Alexander found himself surprised that he enjoyed the night as much as he had, and he knew it was thanks to the witch in his arms.

The music trailed off, the last song of the night finished, and Alexander and Daphne looked at one another. Now that he knew what was before him, Alexander couldn't help but feel entranced that this witch trusted him to be this close, especially after how they met. His eyes flashed to her lips, and he found himself leaning forward...

"Daphne, I'm tired," Astoria's voice cut in, causing Alexander and Daphne to jump apart. Draco Malfoy was nowhere to be seen, and Astoria was tugging on her sister's dress while rubbing her eyes.

"Come on, Astoria, let's get you to bed." Daphne wrapped an arm around her sister. She smiled back at Alexander. "I had a great time tonight, Alex."

"Me too, Daphne," Alexander said. Daphne began to turn away. "Wait! Just one second."

Daphne waited, looking on curiously as Alexander grabbed a pile of enchanted snow off the ground. He compressed it and began to focus his magic into it, changing its shape and structure under his direction. He opened his hand to reveal two necklaces made of ice.

"The icicle is for Astoria, as a thank you for accompanying me tonight," Alexander explained, handing it to the barely conscious girl. She gave him a sleepy thank you. "The crescent moon is for you, Daphne."

She smiled at him and took the second necklace. She blinked in surprise at it. "It's warm!"

Alexander nodded. "If I did it right, it'll stay warm forever. And it should have also kept the Never-Melt enchantment on the snow. I wanted you to have a lasting reminder of tonight."

Daphne gave him a deep, searching look. Before he was aware of what was happening, her lips were touching his, smooth and soft, and warm. It was only a moment, but at that moment, Alexander felt eternity pass him by.

And then Daphne vanished, taking her sister with her, and leaving Alexander alone in the hall.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

The remainder of the winter holidays passed quickly, although some spent it more productively than others. Due to house divisions, Daphne and Tracey were kept from interacting with Alexander too often, limited to almost silent study sessions in the library. He briefly contemplated revealing the existence of his secret rooms, hidden in Hogwarts, that he had been using for years, but dismissed it when he became overcome with a crippling paranoia that it would lead to him being hurt. Even though he knew he most likely wouldn't, he couldn't shake the feeling.

So he waited patiently for class to begin again so he could speak to Daphne about the kiss. Inexperienced as he was, he trusted his parent's advice of not allowing the topic to remain untouched, that he and Daphne needed to talk about it and what it meant for them. They also told him not to build up a fantasy in his mind about it, and to instead focus on something in the real world like homework.

His homework had been done since the day it was assigned, but Alexander did have plenty of projects to occupy his mind. Despite the roadblock he was suffering from his stone tablet, Alexander worked obsessively on it, refining the enchantments he had added thus far and adding new ones. The latest batch involved sizing spells, specifically ones that would allow him to push or pull on opposite corners to expand and shrink it. He also added a basic charm on the cord to extend the length when pulled and to retract when it was tugged again. Combined, the two enchantments allowed him to wear his tablet as a necklace.

Realizing that it looked slightly off to have a book hanging off his neck, he added another charm to make people disinterested in it. As pleased as he was to have created them, it highlighted another aspect of wizarding society that Alexander had yet to contemplate before.

All of the spells he used on his tablet were ones that had existed for decades. They had just never been combined in this way with this purpose in mind. But there were millions of witches and wizards in the world, many born from the non-magical world. That none of them sought to try new things, or even combine old ones, spoke poorly of their curiosity. He wondered what he could do to change that.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

The Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament was revealed when the three schools were shepherded out of the warm castle and to the edge of the Black Lake. Alexander wasn't the only one bored of the event, as none of the spectators had anything to do but stare at the almost frozen water before them. So Alexander pulled out his disguised tablet.

He was only a few minutes into reading about the differences between Totem Transformations and the Animagus Transformation when he became aware of a hand reaching for his book.

"What are you reading," Theodore Nott growled. Alexander said nothing as the Pure-bloods hand wrapped around his tablet. He was curious, after all.

Nott released the book as if he had been burned. Pleased that the Anti-Theft Charms worked so well, Alexander merely raised an eyebrow. "It's a book. You might have heard of them."

Nott scowled. "That's not a book. It's a stone square."

Alexander very quickly realized that the pure-blood must have some skill in Occlumency, as otherwise, the mind magics involved would have made him ignore it. "Squares can be books too," Alexander finally said.

"You should watch yourself, Mudblood."

That brought an eye-roll. "You were just defeated by a book, Nott. Something tells me you should be watching yourself."

"You'll regret this," Nott threatened.

"Highly unlikely," Alexander said. It really was. Nott just wasn't a threat to him.

The rude Slytherin pushed himself closer. "You should stay away from Greengrass. She shouldn't sully her blood with you," he whispered threateningly.

Alexander wrinkled his nose as he pulled away. "First, use a tooth cleaning and breathe freshening spell. You need it. Secondly, what and who Daphne Greengrass does is her business and not anyone else's, and finally," Alexander trailed off as he leaned in close, "if you ever threaten me again, I'll let the whole Wizarding World know you're gay. What was it that happened to the last pure-blood who was outed? His wand snapped and banished from his family?"

Theodore Nott snapped his mouth shut, looking furious and terrified of Alexander in equal terms. The sound of splashing alerted Alexander that the champions were returning with their hostages.

Ignoring the trembling pure-blood beside him, Alexander watched as the champions returned. He belatedly realized the French champion was already shivering on the docks, without a hostage, and reasoned she had been forced to retreat. Finally, Harry Potter popped up with Ron Weasley in tow.

_Huh, didn't know they were gay. Explains a lot, though, doesn't it?_ Alexander thought to himself. He shrugged. It's not like he cared what they did or who they did it with.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

Alexander had barely walked into the castle after the Second Task when he found himself pulled to the side by Daphne.

"Is there somewhere we can talk privately?" she asked. She tapped her wand meaningfully. Alexander nodded.

"Of course. I know just the place." It only took a few minutes and two secret passages to get them to the sixth floor. He pulled aside a tapestry covered in wizards killing one another, to reveal an empty classroom, long devoid of furniture.

Alexander was intently aware that this was the first time they had been alone since the Yule Ball. Despite her clothes returning to the standard Hogwarts uniform, and her hair and make-up returning to her casual looks, he couldn't help but find his attention drawn to her. She was captivating.

"You're beautiful," he said. Alexander realized a moment later that he said that out loud.

"Thank you," she said in return, blushing slightly. Alexander knew this was the moment.

"Daphne, about the kiss at the Yule Ball," he began, stepping toward her.

"Yes?" she replied, matching his step.

"Well, I really liked it." Another step.

"I did too." Daphne matched him. They were close now.

"I'd really like to kiss you again, but I don't know if you even like me in that way," Alexander said. He was not prepared for Daphne giggling in his face.

"Sorry, Alex. But generally when a girl kisses you, it means she likes you," she explained, with a small smile on her lips. Alexander grinned back at her.

"May I kiss you, Daphne?" he asked. Daphne said nothing as she stepped closer. They both leaned in, and their lips met.

Kissing Daphne was just as fantastic the second time. Alexander's arms came up on their own accord, wrapping around Daphne and pulling her closer. They both shifted slightly, and the kiss deepened, and they lost themselves in it.

It could have been a moment, a day, or even an eternity later, but neither one could have said otherwise when they finally pulled apart. They stared into each other's eyes, and for the first time in his life, Alexander could say that he was attracted to somebody. Alexander leaned back in and kissed her softly once more, and the euphoria he felt when she returned it was indescribable.

They pulled apart once more and rested their heads on one another. "That was something else," Alexander said with a dopey grin on his face.

"It was magical," Daphne sighed contently. Then her body went rigid. "Magical! I almost forgot about the wandless magic!"

Alexander chuckled and pulled away from her. "I didn't. I just wanted to make sure we talked about the kiss before we did anything else."

Daphne smiled at him. "I'm glad."

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

Alexander pulled out his long-dead wand, little better than a hollowed-out stick now, and tapped it thoughtfully against his thigh. He and Daphne were still in the classroom, and he was about to begin fully explaining everything he knew about wandless magic to her. He just needed to figure out where to start.  
Fortunately, Daphne decided that for him. "So, you mentioned your wand was snapped the first night of our first year?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Duny and Hilliard, seventh year Ravenclaws. They had some friends along, but they're the important ones."

Daphne focused on those names for a moment. "Duny and Hilliard?" she asked. Her eyes widened in realization. "The two boys who were caught cheating on their N.E.W.T.s! They were expelled and hand their wands snapped..."

Alexander smirked as Daphne's eyes focused on his wand. "They snapped your wand. You got even by having their wands snapped in return," she said in realization.

"Are you disappointed in me?" Alexander hated how vulnerable his voice sounded when he asked that but was immensely relieved when she shook her head no.

"I'd be more disappointed if you didn't do anything to get even." She stood there, thinking for a moment before tensing. "The three boys who attacked me, they were part of it too?"

Alexander nodded as Daphne began to pace. "I could never figure out why you responded so drastically to three random boys attacking me, but it makes sense if they had also attacked you. Were they it?"

He shook his head. "I also got Herbert Burke and Marvin Fawley. Outed them for being gay by accident, and the backward society we live in took care of them for me."

Daphne's eyes grew huge. "You got Burke and Fawley killed?" she asked.

Alexander was confused. "No, I got them expelled. I don't know what happened to them afterward."

"Burke hung himself," Daphne explained. "Fawley walked in front of a muggle lorry soon afterward. It was all over the newspapers."

"I didn't know that." Alexander wasn't sure how he felt about that, but he knew he didn't feel any guilt. The seven boys had tormented him unjustly, anything the universe threw at them was theirs to deal with. "But we seem to have gotten off track."

Daphne agreed, and he quickly explained the first month of his first year, of trying to cast magic through a dead wand before lighting a match on fire and then finally casting a hover charm in Charms.

"It seems to be will power," Alexander finally explained. "Wands seem to help us focus it so it can guide our magic, but I didn't have that guidance. I had to learn it very carefully and through much trial and error. I still have moments where my magic acts oddly at times, but its much less than it once was."

Daphne was looking at her wand. "So, how do I gain focus?"

Alexander held out an empty hand to her. "By losing your focus," he said with a small smirk. She rolled her eyes at his pun but looked nervously at her wand. Reluctantly she handed it over.

Alexander turned and walked a few steps away, placing Daphne's wand safely within his robes while he pulled out a tree branch that he quickly transfigured to match. He turned around and held it in front of him. "Summon your wand to you," he ordered.

Daphne focused, before holding out her hand to her wand. "Accio wand!" she commanded. Nothing happened. She tried again with the same results.

"You have cast the spell before, right? You know what it feels like?" Alexander asked. Daphne's brow furrowed.

"What it feels like to do magic." He shrugged. "When you're casting a spell, you're not just saying some bad Latin and waving your wand in some arbitrary pattern. You're guiding your magic, the magic inside of you, to achieve a specific result."

Daphne closed her eyes and focused on the fake wand in Alexander's hand. "Accio wand," she almost whispered. Unseen to Daphne, the wand in Alexander's pocket twitched.

"Try again," Alexander said. Daphne sighed.

"Why? It's pointless," she complained.

"If an eleven-year-old Mudblood," Alexander spat the slur out, "can accomplish this, then anyone can. Do not give up after only a few attempts."

Daphne nodded, but she seemed resigned on her next few attempts, none of them making the wand in his pocket move even the slightest. Alexander realized what was wrong, but he was loathed to do what was necessary to correct it. But he knew he must if he was to honor their agreement.  
"Can't even do a simple summoning charm," he said, leaning against a wall. "What kind of witch are you?"

A hurt expression crossed Daphne's face before it vanished. "You're trying to make me mad," she said. "It won't work. Accio wand!"

Alexander continued as though she hadn't talked. He began to fiddle with the fake wand, tapping his fingers on it. "It's not a surprise, though, is it? You're a Greengrass, a Pure-blood. You'll never have to lift a finger for the rest of your life, let alone your wand."

"Accio wand!"

"You never had to do anything for yourself, did you? Everything was handed to you on a platter, even magic."

"Accio wand!"

"Maybe I should just snap it?" Alexander asked suddenly, causing Daphne to halt her furious casting. He gripped the fake wand with two hands. "It's not like it's being used for anything."

Daphne screamed, and her magic answered. It whipped out of her in a fury, scorching the classroom where it hit. One unfortunate bolt lashed out at Alexander, burning the fake wand, and his hands. He fell to his knees in pain and surprise.

Just as suddenly as it was created, it ceased, leaving Daphne panting, crying really, on the floor a few steps away. Alexander slowly staggered to his feet and walked over, kneeling in front of her. In his burnt hand was the scorched wand, and when her eyes fell upon it, fresh tears fell.

"Daphne," he reached into his pocket and pulled out her untouched wand, whole and unburnt, "I'm not that cruel. I know what it's like to watch your wand be destroyed. To watch something that feels like the other half of your soul be broken. I don't think I could ever be that cruel."

Slowly her trembling hands reached out to take both wands from him. Alexander could almost see the moment her magic reconnected with her wand, how it calmed her down, and how preciously she cradled it to her chest. He stood up.

"Keep the fake wand. Use it to practice. But never forget how your magic felt in that moment." There was no need to clarify which moment he meant. "I'm sorry that you had to learn it this way, but it's the only way I know how."

Alexander left the classroom before she could reply.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

Alexander wasn't ashamed to admit he avoided Daphne after that. He hurt her, he knew he did, but it was necessary to teach her. And while she may never forgive him for it, Alexander had kept his promise to teach her what he could of wandless magic. He just wished it didn't come at such a terrible cost.

The next few weeks were just as difficult for him as his first few weeks at Hogwarts. He was alone again, not even Tracey or Astoria would join him in the library anymore. He feared he had truly ruined his first chance to make friends.

So he distracted himself. He threw himself into his studies and research. It was a week before the Third Task that he attempted something that he knew could blow up spectacularly in his face.

All year he had been slowly emptying his blood into a casket charmed to keep it fresh, and it was finally full. The last time he had dropped the shard of Philosopher's Stone into it, it had grown to the size of a grape, a significant increase that allowed him to run more tests on it. This time he was hoping for a bit more.

He stood as far away as he could from the casket, the Philosopher's Stone in hand. He carefully broke off a sliver, measured it, and wrote down the results. He then carefully levitated the new shard over the casket. With one last check to make sure everything was correct, he dropped the fragment into the container of blood.

He was picked up off his feet, and it felt like his magic was also grabbed, as he was pulled across the room. He crashed into the wooden remains of the casket and found himself covered in debris ranging from old desks to pieces of parchment, and the odd bucket. The compression subsided a moment later, and Alexander found he could breathe again.

Shoving the bucket off his head, he began to search through the wreckage for his prize. He knew the moment he found it as it felt like someone had shocked him with a live wire, causing him to flinch. Proceeding much more carefully, he found a tennis ball-sized chunk of stone and pulled it free.

Almost immediately, something looked off about it. But it wasn't until Alexander pulled the grape-sized chunk of Philosopher's Stone from his pouch and held them side by side that he realized what the difference was. The smaller stone was a much darker red, almost black. His newly created stone was a lighter red, closer to the color of spilled blood, but definitely not the same shade.

Alexander laid on the pile of kindling and thought about possible reasons why. He dismissed the size being the deciding factor as it seemed too trivial. As he lay there feeling his heart race from the implosion, he realized that blood must be the answer and sat up quickly as he understood why.

Nicholas Flamel was using muggles for centuries on his stone. They still had a little magic, just enough to give them a soul, but not much. But there was a lot of excess blood in comparison to the magic used, and that would throw off the balance of the stone. A truly balanced stone would have equal amounts of blood and magic, which would boost its power.

But then Alexander realized he needed to go even further back. Flamel most likely created his Philosopher's Stone by using a ritual to harvest the Latin runes. But those runes were made using the sacrifice of magical and non-magical beings. Still more equal than Flamel, but just as imbalanced.

Which meant, if Alexander could make a Philosopher's Stone without having to rely on harvesting a rune alphabet, using his own blood, of course, the created Philosopher's Stone would be much more potent as it would be balanced. It would be even greater than the original—a Greater Stone.

As Alexander looked at the freshly created Philosopher's Stone in his hands, he realized it would be impossible. The cycle to create a Philosopher's Stone required the use of a Philosopher's Stone. And you couldn't even create a Greater Stone by harvesting a runic language, as they were all created imbalanced.

Alexander smacked himself in the forehead. He would just have to create a runic language from scratch. It would take him years, maybe even lifetimes, but as Alexander held the Philosopher's Stone in his hand, he knew that was well within his reach. He just had to be patient.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

The Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament arrived in a flurry of excitement for the students of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. Everyone was excited to see the final task, everyone but the one person who seemed unimpressed at looking at hedges for the next hour.

_What a boring tournament,_ Alexander thought to himself. The First Task was the only interesting one, and that was only because everyone could see what was happening. As he looked around at the crowd of witches and wizards, sitting on the edge of their seats with looks of anticipation on their faces, Alexander sighed. At least he had his tablet.

"Can we talk, Alex?" a voice whispered in his ear. Alexander froze, recognizing Daphne's voice anywhere, as well as the scent of lavender drifting from behind him.

Alexander stood and followed Daphne to a spot behind the wooden bleachers where they could just barely see a rickety stage set up where important witches and wizards were sitting. Alexander did not care for them, though, as his eyes only looked at Daphne.

She looked beautiful to his eyes. She seemed tired, a little nervous, but overall okay. Alexander braced himself as she opened her mouth, prepared to hear the worst.

"I'm sorry," Daphne said. "I've been trying to think for weeks on what to say about how I acted, but nothing seemed sufficient, so I'm sorry."

Alexander blinked. That was not what he had been expecting at all. He said as much.

Daphne gave him a sad smile. "Did you think I was angry with you?" He nodded. "I was angry with myself. What you said hurt, but it was truthful. Until third year the worst thing that ever happened to me was Astoria flinging her ice cream at my head."

Privately storing that little tidbit for future use, Alexander focused on the moment as Daphne continued.

"When those three boys grabbed me," she trailed off, shivering before her resolve returned. "I hated it. I hated it with every part of my being. I didn't know what to do, what I could do, and the things they said they were going to do to me..."

"I'm sorry," Alexander said. Daphne shook her head at him.

"It wasn't your fault. You saved me, someone who you had never even talked to before. You're a rare breed of wizard, and not even because of your skill with wandless magic. You're destined for great things."

She wrapped her arms around herself. "My family is old. I've never wanted for anything, and I can have any job I want after I leave Hogwarts. I'm lucky, beyond lucky, but I never realized how meaningless that all was until last year."

"I thought my family had power. That's not true at all. We have money. And when it came to my life, it wasn't money that saved me, it was magic and one boy who had been scorned by our world for the circumstance of his birth," she said, her eyes focused upon his.

"If your family were pure-blood, you'd be heralded as the next coming of Merlin." She paused. "No, you're the first coming of yourself. I can see that now."

"My ego appreciates this by the way," Alexander couldn't help saying. Daphne lightly glared at him, but her smile gave it away.

"And then you were willing to teach me wandless magic, the pinnacle of witches and wizards everywhere. You who had already risked so much gave me a gift I could never have reached on my own."

Daphne reached into her pocket and took out the charred wand. It left her hand and spun lazily in the air above them, the ends occasionally lighting up. "You've given me so much," she whispered, "and you've never asked for anything in return. But then, what do you give the man who saved your life?"

Alexander took her hand in his own and gently pulled her close. As he leaned down to kiss her, he whispered the answer, the thing you give a man who wants for nothing:

"You give him nothing, as he only wants you."

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

It wasn't much later that they pulled themselves apart, startled by a flash of bright light, the crowd above them roaring out in delight. They'd barely separated when the crowd above them changed in tone, from cheering to curious, before resting on frightened. Alexander and Daphne made their way to the aisle so they could see.

They had a clear view of the rickety stage full of pompous windbags, who were looking befuddled at a long object before them. Off to the side, Harry Potter was pulled away by Professor Moody, the boy's limbs trembling and his movements jerky. The crowd's whispers spread information faster than the windbags on the stage.

"Potter showed up with Cedric, dead! I wonder how he died."

"What was all that Potter kept shouting? He's back? Who's back!"

"I think he means He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but that's absurd! The boy is addled."

"Maybe he killed Diggory; he's a Parsletongue, you know."

On and on it went. Daphne left Alexander in search of her sister, quickly collecting her and bundling her off to the castle. Alexander meanwhile kept his gaze on Cedric Diggory, a boy he never knew, lying dead before the Wizarding World. As Madame Pomfrey lowered a white sheet over his body out of respect, Alexander only had one thought going through his mind:

What did this mean for the Wizarding World?

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

AN: End of Year Four.

EDIT: I received a review commenting on how this story appears to be homophobic. This is my response:

This story was written with the idea of keeping canon in place as much as possible. Nobody knew Dumbledore was gay in the story, only a heavily implied relationship (which can be any number of things, plus the source is suspect considering it's Rita Skeeter of all people) between him and Grindlewald that J.K. Rowling confirmed after being published. Dumbledore was, canonically, a magical powerhouse who was a high profile politician and educator, yet this fact was somehow not talked about constantly, which it would be.

Which is why I feel safe in assuming that a homosexual relationship would be viewed very poorly by the wizarding world. Considering how much emphasis is put on blood purity/keeping magical gifts within a family, I feel they'd be heavily in favor of relationships that would enable such a result. Since a magical potion that allows two men or two women to have a child is never displayed or mentioned, I am also assuming it does not exist.

If it also wasn't obvious by what you've read so far, very few people have a "pleasant" time in this story. It was meant to be a more realistic take on canon, which if you think about it objectively, is already a dark tale. I'm just showing another aspect of that darkness, where someone doesn't have a Deus Ex Machina to save the day.

Regardless, there is one point of your review that actually annoys me. "Outing people no matter what situation is wrong and vile". I think you're assuming Alexander knew about their sexual preferences before he acted, which he did not, nor did he know how the Wizarding World would react once it happened. This is also ignoring the fact Alexander was essentially harassed and tortured by these two boys in his first year, and given no reprieve. To put it bluntly: They got what they deserved. Was using their queerness a low blow? Yes. Was it homophobic? no.

For it to be homophobic, Alexander would have had to only target those two boys, and none of his other abusers. He's removed the first two in his first year, the second two in his second year, and he removed the final three in his third year. Them being queer does not excuse their behavior, nor does it (or should) provide them a moral high ground.

EDIT 2: I belatedly realized you meant Alexander's threat in this chapter. My point still stands. It was cruel of him yes, but it wasn't homophobic because he wasn't acting out of hatred and fear, he just wanted to be left alone. Nott was the one who sought him out and who tried to threaten him without thinking about the information Alexander had on him. It really says more about Nott's lack of intelligence, than Alexander's motivations. In my opinion, if you seek out someone with the intent to threaten them, you should be prepared for their possible, and most likely hostile, response.

You're of course, welcome to disagree.

I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	11. Year 5 Part 1

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**WARNING**: This story contains dark and mature themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander Dantes walked through the portal that led to non-magical London, his trunk nowhere to be seen, and a harsh look his face. The crowds of Hogwarts students and their families parted for him like the sea before Moses, most unaware that they even moved until they bumped into someone or something else. The air was almost palpable with fear and horror, and the reason was simple.

Every inch of Alexander's exposed skin was covered in vicious, almost-healed wounds. Each were sealed shut with muggle stitches, barbaric to even think about for the witches and wizards on the platform. The pattern on his neck and arms indicated that the wounds covered the rest of his body. Were anyone on that platform to describe the injuries to someone who wasn't there, they'd claim it was as if Alexander's skin had been shredded to pieces, before being poorly stitched together by an overly enthusiastic child. It was horrifying.

Due to the ease at which the occupants parted, Alexander quickly made his way onto the Hogwarts Express and seated himself in an empty compartment. He wasn't alone long.

"What happened to you?" Daphne Greengrass demanded as she rushed into the compartment. Her sister, Astoria, and best friend, Tracey Davis, followed closely behind her.

"Daphne, Tracey, Astoria," Alexander greeted each with a polite nod, but his voice made the three girls flinch. It was hoarse, as though he had screamed far too much. "I hope you had a pleasant summer."

His polite comment sent alarms off in each of their heads. Daphne placed a gentle hand on his wounded arm, feeling the horrifying stitches on underneath, and it proved to be the tipping point for Alexander.

He began to laugh and cry, and it sounded quite demented to the three girls. Tracey quickly cast a silencing charm on the compartment and closed the blinds so that no one would come across the odd sight.

"Sorry," Alexander said in a watery voice, "but I think you can guess I've had an awful summer. It started with my family being murdered."

The three girls were shocked into silence.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

It happened a week after Alexander arrived home. The family was enjoying each other's company on Jack's eleventh birthday, choosing to have a simple night in this year. Jack and David were busy playing with the former's new video game, an item that proved fascinating to Alexander and had him questioning his father, Adrian, about electronics.

A knock on the door surprised everyone, but Alexander's mother, Cynthia, answered it. She gasped softly, alerting Alexander and Adrian something happened but walked back into the living room under her own power. Something about her eyes seemed off to Alexander, her smile too fixed. He realized what was wrong the moment five men wearing robes and skull-like masks walked into the room.

Alexander surged to his feet, but one of the men was faster, flicking his wand up. "Crucio!" the man shouted. Alexander found himself writhing on the ground, unable to stop himself from screaming at the pain. The curse ended a moment later, but the pain lingered, digging in deep.

"Alex!" Adrian shouted. He didn't seem to know what to do. "What did you do to my son?"

The men laughed. "Just a little taste of the Cruciatus Curse, don't fret. We brought plenty enough to go around."

The pain started up again, but this time the cries of Alexander's family echoed him. Alexander slowly unclenched his eyes to find one of the men standing above him. "Cheer up, little Mudblood. You're not the only magical in your family!" he said, dropping a Hogwarts letter on his face. Despite the pain coursing through his body, Alexander could clearly read Jack's name on it.

"No," Alexander said, desperately hoping that his brother wouldn't experience the same fate he had his first year. He felt sick when he realized it was from far kinder compared to what was happening now.

Another wave of pain followed only this time it wasn't the Cruciatus. Jinxes, hexes, and curses hit Alexander and, judging by the pained screams around him, also his family. He tried to focus through the pain, but couldn't. An utterly unknowable amount of time passed Alexander by.

"Aw, I think mine broke," one man said minutes, or maybe hours later.

"Mine did. Didn't even get to try out the fun curses on it," another replied.

"I might have cursed mine too much. She snapped her own neck," another one said. Alexander couldn't help the sob that escaped him.

A wand poked him in the face. "Mine's still got some life in him. Let's make him kill his father!"

"It's on its last legs, might as well grant it some mercy!" All five men laughed uproariously.

"Imperio," a voice said. Alexander found that the pleasant haze of the curse counteracted the pain of his torture enough that he could focus. With his focus brought fresh horrors to his mind, though.

His mother lay in front of him, her limbs and neck bent at wrong angles. Next to her lay Jack, eleven years old and dead, as would anyone who missed that much of their throat. David was nailed to the wall behind him, limp and unmoving. And Alexander's father, a man whose strength had never faltered or failed his family, was tied to the staircase with barbed wire, one eye plucked out, and the other swollen painfully shut.

"Please, help my family," Adrian begged, his mumblings ignored by the five men. They were focused on Alexander.

"Get the Mudblood up, Hilliard," one of the men in the back ordered.

"Shut up, Duny, this is harder than it looks."

Hilliard. Duny. The names were familiar, and the voices even more so. With a sickening feeling in his gut, Alexander realized who two of these men were. His childhood tormentors returned.

"How do you expect the be a Death Eater if you can't even force one Mudblood to obey your will?" Duny asked. As Alexander's tortured mind and body warred with pain and the Imperius Curse, he could see his father's lips; he could read the words he mouthed.

Fight, Alexander. Fight.

The lips went still, and Adrian's body went limp. Alexander felt focus return to him, overpowering his pain with rage and grief, and all of it directed at the men in front of him. He looked at the man he knew to be Duny.

"Very funny, Hilliard, now get a move on," Duny said.

"What are you talking about? I'm trying to get him to move over to the muggle!" Hilliard protested. "Move you stupid Mudblood!"

"No thanks," Alexander rasped, making all four men in front of him flinch. And then he jerked his hand in front of him.

A piece of banister broke off and flew through the air toward Alexander. It made no pause as it entered Duny's back, ripping through his chest, and sending blood, bone, and muscle everywhere. Before the improvised weapon could hit Alexander, it stopped in front of him, turning to point at Hilliard. In less than a blink of an eye, it was impaled through the Pure-blood's throat. Both men fell to the ground.

The remaining Death Eaters raised their wands and began to launch spells. Alexander flipped the coffee table in front of him with magic, using it to block the spells at the expense of the wood. A heartbeat passed before he banished the wooden fragments at the Death Eaters, distracting them thoroughly from what Alexander did next:

He snapped their necks.

His magic burned, angry and furious, through him. It latched on to the two men, lifting them into the air by their necks before twisting, ending their lives with far more mercy than they offered their victims. They collapsed to the ground.

Alexander screamed in pain as barbed wire wrapped itself around him, from head to toe. The metal sliced into him repeatedly, and the pain was so great he lost his balance and crashed to the floor, driving some of them deeper.

Alexander had forgotten the fifth Death Eater, who was cunning enough to use the deaths of his friends as a distraction. "I don't know how you did that, Mudblood, but you'll pay for it with your life!" he spat, raising his wand.

But Alexander's rage and magic were not as bound as his body. He roared, uncaring of the pain, uncaring of the torment he'd experienced thus far, and flung every bit of magic he had at the Death Eater. It smashed into the unprepared wizard with the force of a bull, throwing him against the wall with a brutal crunch. But before the wizard hit the floor, his body, and the bodies of his companions, vanished in a whirl of magic.

Alexander's head fell to the ground as the pain hit him once more. He thought he could hear frantic voices calling for an ambulance, but then everything faded black.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

"I woke up in a non-magical hospital a few weeks later. The police were understandably very interested in what happened, so I made it seem like it was gang activity," Alexander explained. The Hogwarts Express rocked softly around them, as they sped their way to Hogwarts.

"Alex, I'm so sorry," Daphne said, clutching his hand tightly within her own. He gently squeezed her back.

"Thank you," Alexander sighed. "Because of my age, the courts gave me the option of emancipation. I took it. It was an easy choice considering I spend most of the year at a boarding school in Scotland."

Money had never been an issue. His parents both worked and left tidy sums behind, but Alexander would never have to work a day in his life if he didn't want to. The Philosopher's Stone was capable of transmuting lead into gold, as well as other minerals into other, more precious metals.

As for taking care of himself? He had done that for years at Hogwarts. It was almost as if it were some cruel training so that he would be prepared for the worst moment of his life. Alexander tried to ignore the bitterness from that thought and focused on the present.

Astoria and Tracey were looking at him in horror but sympathy. He briefly wished he had asked Astoria to leave, that the third year wouldn't have to hear about the terrors that haunt their society, but realized she was probably already aware.

She was in Slytherin, and the house was never going to be very kind.

Still, it was understandable when the pair made their excuses and left, leaving him alone with Daphne. He squeezed her hand and marveled at how soft it was.

"Sickle for your thoughts?" he asked. She gave him a half-hearted glare.

"My thoughts are worth at least a Galleon," Daphne said snobbishly, her nose pointed upward mockingly. Alexander smiled only slightly at the joke. "My parents are worried."

A pit of dread formed in Alexander's belly. "What about?"

"Me. Us. My family. I told my mother and father about you when I arrived home. They were concerned, especially since several Dark Wizards have written to them, requesting a meeting. They're worried that my association with an," her face twisted unpleasantly, "undesirables, could bring tragedy upon our family."

As much as Alexander wished to hate her parents, to deny that anything would go wrong, he only had to think back on what happened to him the past few months. Which made what he was about to do, all the more painful. "I think they're right."

Daphne's head whipped around so sharply that her hair flicked his face. "What?" she asked dangerously.

He held his hand in front of her, showing one unblemished side before flipping it over, shoving off dozens of stitches. "This is what happens, Daphne."  
"I don't care about the scars," she angrily retorted.

"And I don't either," Alexander replied. "But I don't want to see you being hurt because of me. I would rather experience it all over again than have it done to you."

Daphne was silent for the longest time. "Sometimes, I hate you. Always the hero, aren't you?"

Alexander swallowed painfully. "Not always."

"I'm sorry, that came out wrong. You're always willing to fight, to defend others, aren't you?"

"I will bear the costs, so they don't have to," he whispered, stroking her hand softly.

She sniffed. "I'm not letting you break up with me."

Alexander gave Daphne a sad smile. "We must." She only shook her head.

"You need to think like a Slytherin. We won't publicly date. But you're crazy if you think I'm going to let you go, Alex."

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "Thank you, Daphne."

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander looked at the Thestrals that pulled the Hogwarts carriages and found himself hating the beasts. They had done him no wrong and were, in fact, quite docile, but the requirements needed to see them were still raw in his mind.

Daphne had joined her sister and friend in another carriage, leaving Alexander alone with his thoughts. He agreed with her plan, having no wish to be parted from her company, but realizing it was far too dangerous for both of them if they were seen together. Daphne trusted Astoria and Tracey to keep a secret, and Alexander trusted Daphne. That was enough in his mind.

But as Alexander sat down for the Start-of-Term Feast, he made a point to sit with his back to the Slytherin table. He didn't want to spend the entire meal looking at her from afar, so close yet so far, unable to bridge the gap between them. He was not a fan of torture.

There was another new face at the staff table this year, a squat woman covered in pink. Were it not for her unfortunate face Alexander would say she looked like a cupcake. As it was, she looked like a toad, a description that only felt more true when she opened her mouth to interrupt Dumbledore.

What followed was almost not worth paying attention to. A government supposedly concerned with falling educational standards, a representative sent to keep things on track. The witch, Professor Umbridge, was a Pure-blood in a society built for Pure-bloods. She would never hold his respect, only his contempt. Alexander vowed to avoid her as much as possible.

The feast proceeded after that, and Alexander pushed his food around on his plate, no real appetite to speak of. The roasted boar reminded him of the grisly scene of his family's murder, and bile rose from within. Disgusted, Alexander pushed the plate away.

One of the other Ravenclaws tried to talk to him. "What happened to your face?" a third-year asked. Alexander vaguely recognized her from the previous year, one of the Ravenclaws he taught an animation charm to. "Does it hurt?"

Biting back the unpleasant response lingering in his mind, Alexander shook his head. "No. Not anymore."

She nodded. "Are you going to see Madame Pomfrey to heal them? She healed my cut last year, see?" She held up a hand where nothing could be seen.  
Alexander looked at her unblemished skin for a long moment. He could wipe his scars away with magic, make it seem like he had never been injured.

"Perhaps."

As soon as the word left his mouth, Alexander knew he wouldn't. The scars were his. They were a reminder and would always be a reminder of the day he failed his family. No amount of magic could wipe that away.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander was surprised by how entertaining Professor Umbridge's Defense Against the Dark Arts class was. The book she assigned was trash, and the lack of practicals promised a boring year of substandard theory. But then Harry Potter was thrown into the mix.

The Gryffindor lived up to the standards of his house. He seemed to be incapable of keeping his mouth shut, mouthing off to the professor and repeatedly stating that You-Know-Who was back. Barely five minutes into class and Potter and Umbridge were butting heads. It proved far more entertaining than Quidditch ever was.

Still, Alexander was grateful that he had his disguised tablet. He should probably name it. A Library Pad? Infopad? Magipad? None sounded right to Alexander, perhaps he would just stick with tablet. It was, after all, a stone square.

He flicked through a list of the available texts, wishing he could search through, or at least organize, them. But both functions were still beyond him at the moment. There were not insignificant gaps on the list as it was, the spots once filled by the non-magical books kept in his home. That stone had failed during the summer though, and Alexander never got around to replacing it before the Death Eaters attacked.

Despite Potter's unsubtle tactics, Alexander did believe him. Fourteen years of peace, with not a single sighting, gone mere weeks after Potter returned proclaiming the Dark Lord returned? It was far too coincidental. That other attacks hadn't been announced didn't mean much, Alexander knew how easy it was to conceal things with magic.

Alexander shook himself. He needed a distraction. He wished he could grab Daphne and drag her to the library, but that would only bring trouble upon them both. He drummed his fingers on his tablet in thought.

He did have that idea for creating a runic alphabet. He could write out runes in his blood, speaking the translations over them while infusing them with magic. Alexander had no idea if it would work, but reasoned it would be easier than slaughtering a few million people to create one. But he lacked the space that would no doubt require, as well as runes and words to make it happen. He drummed his fingers on the tablet again.

He supposed that could be his focus this year. It would be time-consuming creating a language from scratch, as well as letters to use as runes. It would be foolish to use English after all; then everyone could use it. He tapped his fingers again before allowing his hand to still on his tablet.

Alexander had for years feared the use of Expansion Charms, terrified of them imploding or possibly twisting upon themselves, cutting off the expanded space and trapping him forever. There was no enchantment, rune, or method to stabilize the space, so he could create one. He didn't need a full language, not yet, he just needed a handful of runes.

When the bell rang, Alexander was the first one out the door.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

It took Alexander weeks longer than he expected to even come up with the design for the new rune and to realize a possible, and dangerous, side effect.

The rune he devised was a carefully chiseled cube, containing a hollow square within the center, with a hole drilled to the inner cube at every corner. The rune carving spells they learned in Ancient Runes were surprisingly flexible, but Alexander made sure that the holes all went to the correct spot with several spells. There was no room for error, after all.

The tesseract, which was what the stone cube was, was chosen for a single reason: Namely that it would be incredibly unlikely for any witch or wizard to understand or even know what it was. The likelihood of them accidentally empowering it would be lowered even further, as it needed to be powered from the inside out. Or at least, that's what Alexander hoped to happen.

He was hoping that by using a three-dimensional rune that others would not accidentally stumble upon it and wreck havoc. It was then that Alexander realized a possible side effect, one that could be terribly dangerous.

Standard Expansion Charms would expand an interior until the magic became unstable, which was where a normal enchanter would put walls or barriers of some sort to keep people from wandering in and disappearing. If Alexander's rune worked correctly, then the Expansion Charm would never theoretically destabilize, or at least, not destabilize until much further. While this was fantastic news, it also meant that he might create an infinite space inside a finite object. The difference in air between the two could mean there was a genuine chance that Alexander could suck a decent portion of the atmosphere into the infinite space, killing everyone.

He'd like to avoid that, if possible.

So he created another three-dimensional rune, with three spikes meeting at a rounded cap. The three spikes pointed out from one another, that when paired with seven more, they'd create a boundary that nothing could move past, thus preventing an infinite space. Alexander made the lines and curves as unnatural as possible but reasoned that without eight of the runes in one place, nothing horrible would happen. Hopefully.

Which left him the task of figuring out how to empower his new runes. As Alexander played one day with the Lesser Stone, what he had taken to calling Flamel's original Philosopher's Stone, he realized that he didn't need to pour buckets and buckets of blood onto the new runes to create them, he just needed to harvest the magic and blood already within the stone in his hand. Alexander just had to figure out how.

After he talked to Daphne, of course. He missed her.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander found Daphne in the Great Hall, standing with a bunch of other students, as they watched Argus Filch hammering a small plaque into the wall. Considering she was standing next to a Hufflepuff, Alexander reasoned it would be safe to approach.

"What's going on?" he whispered as he stepped beside her. She didn't even turn her head as she replied.

"Filch is putting up another one of Umbridge's Educational Decrees," she whispered back.

"Another?" Alexander belatedly realized there were already half a dozen small plaques hammered into the wall. "When did that happen?"

Daphne turned and gave him an incredulous look. "I know you Ravenclaws like to focus on your studies, but you can't tell me you haven't noticed how miserable she's made the castle?"

Alexander shrugged. "As opposed to how miserable the castle makes me?"

Her face tightened slightly. "Let's meet up tonight. I don't think being alone is good for you right now, Alex."

Alexander almost let a sarcastic retort slip from his lips but swallowed it. Daphne had been nothing but kind to him and did not deserve that kind of response. Instead, he nodded as Filch moved away from the wall. Reading the new decree, he jerked his chin at it. "Looks like we'll be breaking the rules to do it."

"Oh, come on!" Daphne protested. Many of their fellow students joined in. "Boys and girls are not to be within six inches of each other? What kind of nonsense is this?"

"Standards have fallen far in Hogwarts, Ms. Greengrass," a sickly sweet voice from behind said. The crowd turned to see Umbridge smiling at them. "Now, I'll let you off this one time as the rule was just posted, but don't let me find you violating it in the future!"

Daphne and Alexander shared a look. They'd talk tonight.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

"Aren't we supposed to be talking?" Alexander asked. The pair were in the classroom he first helped Daphne cast wandless magic in. Underneath him, Daphne whined and pulled his lips back to her neck.

"I don't want to," she breathlessly said as Alexander kissed one tender spot. Her hands pulled at his hair, keeping his mouth in place. The two teenagers were occupied for a few more minutes before they reluctantly parted.

"Is it just me, or is it hotter knowing we're breaking a bunch of ridiculous rules?" Alexander asked as they cuddled on a cushion. He had Mopsy the House Elf bring it to the room for this express purpose.

"I'll hold off on thanking the wicked witch of the Ministry," Daphne said. Alexander began to laugh. "What? What's so funny?"

"Wicked witch of the Ministry. Reminded me of an old movie. The villain was the Wicked Witch of the West," Alexander explained. Daphne wrapped her arms around him and snuggled into his chest.

"What's a movie?" she asked. Alexander frowned.

"I suppose you could liken them to enchanted paintings if the paintings told an epic tale. And not just about things that happened, but about things that never were," Alexander tried to explain in concepts the Pure-blood witch in his arms could understand.

She nodded. "They sound like pensieve. I'd like to see a movie," she murmured as Alexander began to stroke her hair. The lay there for quite some time, lost in their thoughts, and enjoying the moment.

"What did you say, Daphne?" Alexander suddenly asked, his hand stilling.

"I want to see a movie," she murmured tiredly. It was quite late.

"No, before that. What's a pensieve?"

She groaned and tried to burrow into his side. "They're runic bowls that hold memories. They allow you to store and relive memories, either by playing it out before you or immersing yourself in it."

As his hand returned to stroking Daphne's hair, Alexander became very excited about pensieves. "How many memories can they hold? How detailed are the memories?"

Daphne gave a half-hearted shrug. "How many thoughts are in your head? How vivid are your memories? Why are you so interested, going to make one?"

Alexander pulled her close and held her tightly. "Yes. Yes, I am."

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: Start of Year Five.

I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	12. Year 5 Part 2

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander was disappointed and annoyed over how easy it was to make a pensieve. Apparently, it was common for wizards to make one, to the point where they'd often be buried with the things after the memories were poured into an enchanted painting of themselves.

But they were so incredibly useful that Alexander temporarily abandoned his plans for Expansion Charms kept stable by experimental runes. Because if pensieves worked on the principle Alexander thought they did, then he wouldn't need them.

The human mind processed and stored an incredible amount of information. Memories could affect every sense a human had, quite intensely, even decades later. But Alexander didn't want or need to store the smell of a book, or how it felt underneath his hand. He just needed to store what was written on it.

The creation of a new stone tablet occupied his mind for the next month. It needed all the previous enchantments on it, but it also needed the runes to create a pensieve on it. Creating an extremely shallow depression on one side, the arbitrary screen, Alexander went to work on trying to adapt how wizards made copies of their memories.

All of the books agreed that it required a basic understanding of Occlumency to accomplish. It involved wrapping magic around a memory kept stable by Occlumency, and pulling it out. While most wizards used a wand for this, some of the books mentioned how a powerful Occlumens could do this without a wand, highlighting just another reason why Alexander considered modern wizards to be lazy and stupid. They could even Apparate or perform the Animagus transformation without their wands, yet none seemed to think wandless magic was normal.

Alexander's issue with this was that books did not have minds, and he doubted that he could not perform a similar method on them. He reasoned that the mind, and the Occlumency, made this method of retrieval possible and that an inanimate object lacking a mind or Occlumency would make it unviable.

He supposed he could read every single book in the library, pull out the memory of him reading them, and then reliving it within the pensieve. A quick test later revealed how utterly unviable that plan was, as the memories could only cover short chunks of time. Plus, he didn't want to watch himself reading; he just wanted to read.

There had to be a way to make the information in books act as insubstantial as a memory. He picked up the year's Defense textbook, useless trash that it was, made it a perfect test subject in case it was destroyed. Half curious, he willed his magic to his hands, focused his will power upon it and demanded it to pull the information out of it. And something happened.

Alexander's magic swirled through his body, and he could feel how it connected his fingers to his Occlumency. Shock and disbelief filled him as he slowly pulled a ghost-like memory strand from the book, that he was quick to deposit into the latest version of his tablet. It entered without issue, and the concave began to glow a ghostly blue.

He accessed the magic of his tablet, having it display a list of its contents. The ghostly blue solidified and listed the defense textbook. Alexander prodded it with his magic and was stunned when it displayed the first page of the useless text. He quickly flipped through ghostly pages, astonished that the information was there and that it was readable.

He sat back and laughed. He laughed so hard that tears began to fall. He, like every witch and wizard before him, had assumed it would be impossible to put a book into a pensieve like this, that because it lacked a mind, magic, and Occlumency that it was impossible. He had forgotten his own advice, the advice he had given the first year Ravenclaws the previous year: To question everything.

Vowing never to forget, he began to add the rest of his books to his tablet.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Three weeks later and Alexander was still not done copying the books in the Hogwarts Library. He had to dispel the protection spells from each book, pull the information from them and deposit it covertly into his tablet, before restoring the protection spells. Normally he wouldn't have bothered, but with the glares Madame Pince was giving everyone, he was determined to copy the library before being banned.

Which was why Alexander almost panicked when Hermione Granger approached him out of the blue one day. She looked concerned, biting her lip out of nervousness or anxiety, and her hair was even more frizzled than normal. Alexander dearly hoped she hadn't seen the ghostly shimmer in his hands that he had just pulled out of a Charms text and shoved into his tablet.

"Alex? Can we talk?" Hermione asked. Alexander briefly bristled.

"Alexander," he corrected bluntly. Her brow furrowed in confusion, and he sighed, trying to dispel his rage. Only those he was close to could call him Alex, and now that his family was dead, that was only Daphne. "You can call me Alexander."

"Okay," she seemed to recollect herself. "Alexander, what do you think of Professor Umbridge's classes?"

He shrugged. "I think that if I dumped a bucket of water on her, she'd melt."

That got a small laugh. "I meant about her teaching."

"There's teaching happening? Must have missed that."

Hermione nodded and leaned in close. "We're creating a study group," she whispered.

Alexander leaned in, as well. "Congratulations?" he whispered back. She rolled her eyes.

"Would you like to join? We're learning for our O.W.L.s, as well as for defending ourselves in case something," she leaned in closer, "bad happens."

"You mean like a certain undead Dark Lord?" Alexander asked. Hermione frowned.

"I don't think he's undead, but he's certainly still around."

Alexander sighed. "So, what were you thinking about learning in this club?" _Might be worth it,_ he thought.

"Most likely the stunning spell, among other things," she said, looking pleased.

_Or not._

"So your plan, now that a Dark Lord has returned who's expressed interest in killing all non-magicals, as well as us, is to learn Stupefy?" Alexander asked incredulously.

"What are we supposed to do, kill them?" Hermione hissed back.

"Yes! Why would you not?"

Hermione looked quite cross. "I'm not going to stoop to their level!"

"Defending yourself is stooping to their level?"

"No, killing!"

"Granger, look at my face," Alexander ordered, pointing a hand to emphasize it. The stitches had long since been removed, but the scars were obvious to anyone who cared to look. "Do you even know how this happened?"

She looked embarrassed and slightly uncomfortable as she shook her head no. "No, what does this have to do with the Death Eaters?"

"Everything," Alexander growled. "My family was murdered this summer by those bastards, after being tortured. This is my little souvenir from that visit."

This seemed to encourage her further. "Then you understand the importance of studying Defense!"

"I killed them," Alexander said, his voice as blunt and forceful as a hammer. Hermione looked at him, horrified. "Stunners would not have stopped them. Their friends would have just revived them before continuing. Want to know what did stop them? A piece of broken banister shoved through their neck."

"You're Dark," she whispered horrified.

"And you're a fool if you think you can win a war by stunning your opponent. Five Death Eaters will never hurt anyone ever again. But if I stunned them? Obeyed the rules of a corrupt society? They'd never stop."

Hermione left with tears in her eyes and horror on her face. Alexander felt no pity for her; this was something she needed to learn now before it was too late. With a sigh, he went back to work.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Soon after this, Professor Umbridge released Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four, which disbanded all existing clubs, teams, societies, and groups and forbade further groups from forming without permission from the Hogwarts Inquisitor, Umbridge herself. Alexander was somewhat amused by this, guessing that this was caused by whatever club Hermione was trying to create. He then wondered if this decree also applied to classes, and the thought of Professor McGonagall having to ask the Ministry's attack dog for permission to teach Transfiguration amused him for a solid day.

Alexander didn't particularly care, however. Like most of the other decrees, this didn't impact him overly much, even if he did start to have more company in the library in the form of other students. His work on copying the library was progressing smoothly, the sheer quantity of books meant he wasn't even half-finished, but Alexander reasoned he could be done by the end of the Winter Holidays if he maintained the same pace.

Breaking into the Restricted Section would be an entirely separate issue, but fortunately, the students in their sixth and seventh year had unrestricted access to it. If he couldn't find a way around the protections, he would just wait until the next year to copy it. While he wasn't pleased to wait, he wasn't willing to risk being expelled before he could copy all the knowledge that was contained therein.

Alexander never had any qualms over stealing books and information from Hogwarts. The knowledge was there for the students to learn, and if the faculty didn't want to protect that knowledge with adequate restrictions, then he was going to take advantage of their oversight. He viewed it more of a test than anything, one that he was determined to pass with flying colors.

"You look like you're having fun," Tracey Davis whispered from behind him. Alexander's hands froze on the book before continuing, realizing it was pointless to hide he was doing some sort of magic. "What's the naughty Ravenclaw up to?"

"What would a Ravenclaw be doing in a library, other than studying?" Alexander shot back. Tracey laughed.

"Daphne has a free block right now if you do. I'm off to go cause a distraction, so no one misses her absence," Tracey said. A smile crossed Alexander's face.

"Thanks, Tracey," Alexander whispered back, his hand dropping from the books. He wasn't overly concerned with his place; the books kept the order he copied them in, which worked well for keeping things organized, but meant he had to go back several times to copy books students had checked out. "You're the best."

"You know it," she said, giving him a wink. "Enjoy your snog."

Alexander left the library, and it only took him a moment to reach the classroom where he and Daphne often met. Pushing open the door, he walked in without looking and immediately began to speak, "well, I got your message, although your messenger could use some work..."

He trailed off when he realized Professor Umbridge was waiting there with an extremely nervous Daphne Greengrass. The squat professor gave him a nasty smile. "Mr. Dantes," she greeted.

"Professor Umbridge," Alexander replied, giving her a small nod. "What an unexpected surprise."

"Is it? You weren't trying to violate one of my decrees, were you?" she asked.

Alexander wisely refrained from pointing out that they were actually Ministry decrees, realizing that'd not end well. "I don't believe so. Ms. Greengrass agreed to help tutor me about the Wizarding World, you see. Is that against the rules?"

Professor Umbridge narrowed her beady, unfriendly eyes at him before turning to Daphne. "Is this true, Ms. Greengrass?"

Daphne nodded, and Alexander was pleased she showed no hesitation as she answered. "I felt it prudent to help him understand his place in the world, Professor Umbridge. To turn him into a proper wizard. It's been a long and hard journey but very rewarding."

Umbridge may have missed that double entendre, but Alexander didn't, shooting Daphne a small smirk. He schooled his features as she turned back to him. "And this messenger, Mr. Dantes, telling you where to go, who was it?"

Realizing she was fishing for any excuse to get them in trouble, Alexander placed his hand in his robe. He quickly conjured a piece of parchment that was transfigured into a paper bird, before applying a mild animation charm to it. To finish it up, he burned a small message along one of its wings. The whole process took two seconds.

Handing it to her, he said, "it wasn't a who, but a what. I think Ms. Greengrass does excellent charm work, don't you?"

"Yes," Professor Umbridge said softly, reading the message. She handed the bird off to Daphne. "Twenty points to Slytherin for being an outstanding student. Keep up the good work, Ms. Greengrass. And let me know if he gets out of line."

"Yes, professor," Daphne replied, her eyes laughing in pure amusement. "I'll be sure to keep a firm hand on him."

Professor Umbridge left the pair, and they waited until they were sure she was gone before throwing up silencing spells. The moment the magic settled, they began to laugh, moving toward one another to embrace. As Daphne's arms wrapped around Alexander, the paper bird fell from her hand, revealing its message to the world:

Don't waste a Pure-blood's time, Dantes. Show up now, or be punished.

"So am I to be rewarded or punished for this stunt?" Alexander asked after they shared a kiss.

"Definitely rewarded," Daphne purred, pulling him closer.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Unfortunately for Alexander's raging teenage hormones, they didn't kiss for long. Daphne pulled back with a sigh. "As much as I'd like to keep going, I wanted to ask you about something, about my wandless magic."

Alexander collapsed back on the cushion. "Yeah, shoot. You've been practicing since last year, right?"

"Yes," Daphne replied quickly. Neither liked to remember how Alexander had to insult her to get her to use her magic without a wand. "But I'm having issues, and I'd hoped you could help."

Sitting up interested, Alexander looked Daphne in the eye. "Of course, what are you having issues with?"

"Well, with a few things, actually. Why does my magic feel so weird before it casts? It's almost like it's alive," Daphne asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Because it is."

Silence met that. "What?"

Alexander shrugged. "Maybe not in the same way we're alive, but there is definitely sentience behind it. How else would you explain conditional spells? They should be impossible, yet they're somehow aware enough to permit certain things while restricting others."

Daphne remained silent while she digested that, and while Alexander knew that answered her question, he knew it wasn't the correct answer. "Do you know what spell formulas are?" he asked.

"Of course, we study them in Arithmancy. Wizards use them to prove that certain spells should cause certain effects. They're a cornerstone in Spell Crafting, but most find the math too complicated."

Alexander nodded. "So you know that almost alive feeling you get before you cast a spell? It's your magic figuring out what you want and creating the spell formula internally. But it's never very efficient at the start, which is why the more you cast a spell, the easier it becomes. Your magic, and body, are learning the most efficient way of casting it."

He pulled her closer. "This is where wand movements and spell incantations come into play. Most witches and wizards lack the necessary focus to refine the spell themselves and need to rely on outside help. But, through training, you can gain the focus needed, so you no longer need wands or incantations."

"But it's so difficult," Daphne whined. "Look what happens when I try to create fire!"

She waved her hand at the far wall and said, "Incendio!" A light blue light left her hand and impacted the wall, spreading a sheet of ice. Alexander couldn't help but laugh.

"Ah, this takes me back to my first year. I tried to make a bed out of books and instead spent the night covered in papercuts."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "I don't understand what I'm doing wrong. Help?" she asked.

Alexander kissed her. "Of course. Actually, your solution is rather straightforward."

"And what's that?"

"Just create fire."

Daphne smacked Alexander in the chest and again when he started laughing. "That is not helpful, and you know it!" Her cheeks were aflame in embarrassment.

"It kind of is," Alexander said, his laughter not subsiding. Daphne began to glare at him but was quickly distracted by him kissing her. "Cast the spell now!"

The sudden order made Daphne blink in confusion. "What?"

"Quickly!"

Daphne did so and was astonished to find a small fire exploding into being a moment later before fading. She gained a contemplative look on her face. "How did that work?"

"Your magic listens far more closely to your emotions than your words. You don't have the personality that burns hot, so you need to use something else."

"So, you made me angry so that I could make fire?"

Alexander shook his head. "Anger can be hot or cold, and yours runs cold. It's part of why you kept making ice despite saying the wrong incantation."

"So how did I make fire now? Shouldn't it have been ice?"

Alexander smirked down at her. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked, stroking her cheek. "Fire is passion."

Not much more was said after that.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Before Alexander realized it, the Winter Holidays had started. Daphne was forced to return home with her sister, to reassure their parents that everything was fine and that their studies were going well. Tracey Davis went with them, as did most of the other students, and Alexander was one of the handful of students left at Hogwarts over the break.

He didn't like it.

Even Professor Umbridge left the castle, which came as a breath of relief for the remaining dozen inhabitants. Alexander reasoned that without the bulk of her targets there, the toad-like professor had little reason to remain. The irony of her chasing away all the castle's inhabitants, just so she could leave herself, did not escape Alexander, although he found it difficult to enjoy the result.

He avoided the other inhabitants of the castle, having Mopsy the House Elf bring him food to his room, and going for long walks around the grounds. He had finished copying the public parts of the library a few days before Christmas, and Alexander found that without something to distract him, dark thoughts moved across his mind. The walking helped keep them at bay.

Why did the Death Eaters choose his family? To torture, break, and kill them? Was it chance or planned? Did Duny and Hilliard plan it in retribution, or were they merely along for the ride, a chance to have "fun" with some muggles? Alexander wished he knew.

He had tried writing to Daphne but had been answered with a Howler from her father, demanding he cease his association with Daphne. The anguish that caused cut him so deeply that he had stopped exiting his rooms entirely, and what little distraction the rest of the world provided him could no longer help.

On Christmas morning, a day, he would wake up to hear the sounds of his shouting brothers, his laughing father, and his mother trying to herd them all to the living room, Alexander broke. He screamed, losing himself in his loss and rage, his magic whipping out of him violently. The contents of his room were trashed, thrown against the wall with all the fury of a storm. His furniture rattled in their places before they too were picked up and thrown, shattering to pieces. And in the center of the storm kneeled Alexander.

He had never felt so alone.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The holidays ended. Students returned, greeting one another warmly, happy to see their friends again. But the hall of Hogwarts did not stay this way long, especially once Professor Umbridge arrived. Her presence swept over the school like a Dementor's, sucking the joy and life from it. Alexander briefly wondered if casting a Patronus Charm in her face would banish her, or merely blind her.

Alexander was surprised by a tug on his arm. He turned to find Daphne Greengrass, bundled up against the cold, standing there. No words passed their lips; the need to speak was said through their eyes. They walked toward the classroom, where they had spent so many hours laughing, talking, and kissing and entered without a word.

No sooner had Alexander shut the door, did he find Daphne wrapping her arms around him, clutching him tightly. Despite the warmth of her body, he only felt cold.

"I've missed you," she whispered.

Alexander slowly raised his arms, both feeling as though they had no blood flowing through them, rubbery and dead. It felt clumsy, returning her hug, as though his own body wasn't quite sure what it was doing.

"I've missed you too," he replied. Was that his voice? He sounded so disinterested, so mechanical.

Daphne must have heard it too, for she pulled back. "Alex? Are you alright?"

Alex. A name reserved for family, friends, loved ones. And just like that, Alexander was warm again, burning with anger.

"No," he said, pulling away, "I am the furthest thing from alright I could possibly be."

"What's wrong? What happened, Alex, please tell me," Daphne pleaded.

"I received a letter just before Christmas. I'm sure for most people, that's a welcome thing, it's always good to receive word from family and friends around the holidays." Alexander began to pace.

"But it was not a normal letter! It was a Howler. But who would bother sending a muggle-born, a Mudblood, a Howler?" He turned, fixing his eyes on a thoroughly baffled Daphne. "Your father, that's who!"

"My father?" Daphne asked, incredulous. Alexander nodded.

"I sent you a letter. I was lonely, still am, but that doesn't change anything. I sent a letter to my friend, to my girlfriend, and her father sent me a Howler in turn, demanding I never speak to his daughter again."

Alexander's fingers spasmed, and he could feel his magic stirring inside of him, but he ruthlessly kept it under control. "Want to know the worst thing about it, though? I kept thinking you would write. That you would send a letter along, possibly even through Tracey, if your father was difficult. But nothing arrived."

The classroom fell silent. Daphne was looking at Alexander, tears, and horror in her eyes, but he didn't see them. He couldn't even look at her.

"Alex, I-" she began, but he cut her off by holding out a package.

"Merry Christmas, Daphne. I hope you have a pleasant year," Alexander said, dropping it into her hands. He turned and left before she could see his tears.

But no matter how fast he walked, he couldn't stop himself from hearing her choked sob, or stop how it tore at his heart.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The following days and weeks were a haze to Alexander. Classes with Slytherin were painful, Daphne being so close yet so far was torturous to him. They never made eye contact, let alone acknowledged each other's presence, but there was a hole in Alexander's heart that felt raw, and it ached every day for her.

Dumbledore's sudden disappearance surprised Alexander and the rest of the school. One day they woke up to find Professor Umbridge sitting on the headmaster's throne-like chair in the Great Hall. Her announcement soon after only cemented the transition.

Umbridge immediately began to clamp down on her control of the castle, imposing ever-stricter rules and punishments upon the students. The teachers did nothing, not that Alexander was surprised, as they seemed to lack the spine to act at all. Their students, their charges, were being actively tortured by the pink monstrosity, yet they sat there and did nothing.

It was a sign of wizarding society, Alexander realized. If you wanted something done, you had to do it yourself. But most people were not willing to put their lives on the line. They'd rather flock to a champion and support them. Alexander just had to look at Dumbledore and Potter to know that as fact.

Dumbledore's minions sat at the table, ineffective without their leader to blaze the path, which should have been obvious, for them. Potter and his friends sat at the Gryffindor table, shooting each other significant looks as though no one could see them. Alexander wondered what form their rebellion would take, and how far they'd go.

Which was why Alexander was so surprised it wasn't Potter and his friends who acted first but the Weasley Twins.

It had started off small, just a slowly escalating series of pranks meant to disrupt the way of life at Hogwarts. Cursed silverware that would roll away from reaching hands, rugs that would wrap around anyone unfortunate to walk upon them. But it was the swamp that impressed Alexander, a beautiful construct of magic that was one part Charms, one part Transfiguration, and one part Potion. The two Gryffindors somehow managed to combine them in such a way to create a permanent effect, something Alexander didn't realize was possible without the use of Runes.

But that seemed to be too much, too overt, and Fred and George Weasley were caught, and at Umbridge's mercy in front of the whole school.

"You think it's funny to turn a school corridor into a swamp?" Umbridge screeched unpleasantly. A few nearby students were covered in swamp muck.

"A bit, yeah," one of the twins said. He and his brother seemed unconcerned by the screeching witch. Alexander applauded their daring and wished that he could look over their notes to see what else they'd come up with.

As Umbridge began ranting and raving about expulsion, the two brothers shared a look and gave each other a firm nod. As one, they held up their wands and shouted, "Accio Broomsticks!"

A loud ruckus could be heard echoing through Hogwarts, and two broomsticks appeared, one dangling manacles of all things. The twins mounted them.

"If you like our patented Portable Swamps, as demonstrated upstairs, come to-"

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley!"

"A special discount to Hogwarts students who promise to use our products to get rid of this old hag!"

The two men kicked off and released more fireworks, before flying from the Great Hall. The crowd of students excitedly whispered about the latest development, while Alexander stood among them, silent and contemplative.

Perhaps, not all wizards in the wizarding world were useless. Fred and George were brilliant, creative, and daring, things that Alexander did not associate with wizards. He wondered how he could find more of them.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: Fred and George certainly have some flair.

I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	13. Year 5 Part 3

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

This was the first time Alexander had ever been in Professor Flitwick's office. Two comfortable looking chairs sat in front of a fireplace, with an appropriately sized desk for the professor pushed under a window. There were bookshelves and books everywhere, and Alexander was almost tempted to go through them. He suppressed that urge, however, as that was not why he was here.

"Please sit, Mr. Dantes, so that we can begin this Career Counseling session," Professor Flitwick said, making his way to one of the chairs by the fire. Alexander reluctantly took the remaining one.

The tiny professor looked over a parchment for a moment, acquainting himself with its contents. Alexander was tense, well aware that the last time he was even near this room, the man across from him accused him of being a liar, a description that was quickly shared with the other professors.

"Your marks are excellent," Professor Flitwick finally said. "It looks as though you'll be able to continue in any of your current classes at the N.E.W.T. Level. Do you have any idea what you'd like to do after you graduate Hogwarts?"

Alexander swallowed his initial response, which was to walk away and never look back, as well as his next one, which was to tell Professor Flitwick to go to hell. Alexander knew nothing but trouble would come from that.

"I hadn't thought that far ahead, professor," Alexander instead said, tacking on the honorific at the end after a moment's hesitations. Just long enough to let Professor Flitwick know he considered not saying it.

Professor Flitwick's face tightened, but he tried to smile anyway. "No shame in that, you're young! Perhaps we should think about what you enjoy doing and work at it from that angle."

Flashes of bleeding gallons of blood into caskets, researching runes, and punishing those who had done him wrong appeared in Alexander's mind before he shook it off. "I like reading."

Professor Flitwick nodded. "A true Ravenclaw! Well, there are a number of bookstores in wizarding Britain, but most don't require more than a Charms O.W.L."

"You don't say," Alexander said, his jaw unusually tense. Professor Flitwick didn't seem to notice.

"If you'd like, I could help you write to a few owners to inquire about positions. You might even be able to start as early as this summer!" Professor Flitwick explained. "How does that sound?"

Alexander could almost hear a tempest howling inside his mind, demanding to unleash his magic upon this room and the insufferable man who called it home. But instead, he chose to open his mouth.

"It sounds like the value of a Hogwarts education is worthless," Alexander said. Professor Flitwick appeared shocked.

"How could you say that! Hogwarts is the finest institute of magical learning in the world!" the tiny professor protested. Alexander gave him his most unimpressed look.

"You just recommended a bright student, one whose marks are reportedly excellent, a job working at a bookstore."

"But you said you like reading!" Professor Flitwick sputtered. Alexander rolled his eyes.

"As you said, professor, I'm a true Ravenclaw. But that is not the issue here. The issue is you just told me to pursue the most useless, condescending job in the world."

Professor Flitwick grew angry. "I cannot give you useful career advice if you do not work with me, Mr. Dantes!"

"A Ravenclaw with excellent marks, possessing a passion for reading? Arithmancer, pursuing a Runes Mastery leading to Curse Breaking or ancient language translation work. Or you could have recommended Spell Crafter or Researcher, but then you'd have to admit that a Muggleborn would never be permitted in those fields," Alexander angrily retorted. It seemed to take the wind of out Professor Flitwick.

"Mr. Dantes, I'm just trying to help you achieve a realistic career. I cannot in good conscience send you off with wild dreams that are unattainable," Professor Flitwick sighed.

"No, you just send off a first-year who spent the night being mercilessly bullied, after calling him a liar. Worse, you let every other professor in Hogwarts know not to trust the word of a liar." Alexander knew he should stop, but he couldn't, this had been building up for years.

"Mr. Dantes, there was no evidence," Professor Flitwick weakly said.

"An eleven-year-old limping through the halls of Hogwarts isn't evidence? Didn't even merit an investigation?" Alexander shook his head. "You don't care about your students at all."

"That's not true!" Professor Flitwick said, rough anger in his eyes and tone. "I care about all of my students!"

"You care? How did I get these scars, professor?" Alexander spat, pointing at the scars that crossed his face. Professor Flitwick looked confused at the sudden shift of topic.

"You've always had them, haven't you?" the tiny man said.

A freezing wind blew through the office before Alexander ruthlessly asserted control over his magic. "I received these scars nine months ago when five Death Eaters broke into my home and tortured my family and me, when they were murdered! I showed up to Hogwarts, covered in half-healed wounds and not one professor asked me about them. Not one request from Pomfrey to heal them. Nothing," Alexander hissed. He stood up.

"None of you have ever offered me help. You want to know what I'm going to do after I graduate Hogwarts, professor? I'm going to leave Wizarding Britain."

Professor Flitwick's mouth opened and closed, unable to voice anything after everything Alexander had just unloaded upon him. Alexander shook his head in disgust and left. He had once come to this man for aid and had been turned away, to be tormented without mercy in a place that promised safety. Never again.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The next few weeks were filled with numerous annoyances from his fellow fifth years, specifically the ones in Ravenclaw. And it was purely because they were idiots.

Out of habit, Alexander had been sitting in the library, brushing up on his Arithmancy so he would be ready for the exams. He had been quite annoyed when his fellow Ravenclaw fifth years periodically joined him at his table, giving him sideways glances. They insisted on asking him trivial questions about Charms and Transfiguration concepts they could easily read from the books, interrupting his own study time.

So, Alexander would move around the library, but they followed him like lost ducklings. Padma Patil, in particular, was aggressive about him studying with them, demanding he look over her notes in Potions to see if she missed anything important.

His response was simple; crumpling them up in a ball and tossing them at the irritating witch. Telling her that the only thing missing was his ability to care had not calmed her down, and to Alexander's glee had resulted in the entire group being banned from the library for a week. That it included himself was no bother, as he could read on his tablet anytime he liked.

It came to a head one day during lunch. Alexander had just tucked into his meal when he found himself surrounded on all sides by Ravenclaw fifth-years, staring at him intently.

"We need your help, Dantes," Anthony Goldstein said. He fidgeted with his Prefect Badge nervously under Alexander's gaze. "You're the best in our year, and we want to pass our O.W.L.s."

Alexander slowly finished chewing his food before answering. "So go study," he said, before eating another bite.

"I told you he'd be a pain," Padma Patil muttered.

"Please help us, Alex?" Lisa Turpin asked, leaning in close. She smiled at Alexander when she realized he had stopped moving entirely. "I would really appreciate it," she said, completely misunderstanding why he froze.

Alexander painfully swallowed the bite of food in his mouth, taking a sip of water to help it go down. "Turpin?"

"Yes, Alex?" she asked. The other Ravenclaws seemed pleased he was responding to her.

"Go sit on a cactus."

Their part of the table was silent for a moment as they all digested that. None seemed so shocked as Lisa at the blunt suggestion. Alexander took the opportunity to stand up and move away.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The O.W.L.s were a welcome relief to Alexander when they finally arrived. The other Ravenclaws were slow to leave him be, always trying to corner him to convince him to help them study. He had to hex most of them more than once to get the message to stick: They weren't interested in helping him years ago, and he wasn't interested in helping them now.

Alexander breezed through the Charms, Transfiguration, and Ancient Runes exams, finding that all of his studying over the years to be more than adequate. That he cast all his spells silently, a skill not taught until the next year, only impressed the examiners.

He suffered through his Herbology and Potions exams, however. He had neither the patience nor the inclination for the two fields, finding the former to be tedious while the latter an exercise in memorization. He had far more important things to think about than tables of ingredient interactions.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was rather amusing. Of the five professors Alexander had for the subject, only two were worthy of the title. Still, self-study would guarantee him passing the theoretical, but the examiner's faces when he proposed beheading a dark wizard assaulting him? That was priceless. Still, Alexander gave a forceful laugh, to which the examiner gave a nervous chuckle, and changed his answer to the useless Stunning Charm. The examiner nodded at that, pleased, and Alexander walked away, wanting to smack the old fool upside his head.

The most exciting thing to happen was the second to last day of examines, on the night of the Astronomy practical. Alexander, like the other students, was rather tired of the exams at this point but trudged up the stairs dutifully to take them.

As they sketched out the night sky on their parchments, a rustle of unease went through the students. Despite his inclination otherwise, Alexander found his attention drawn to the grounds of Hogwarts, where Umbridge was leading several red-robed figures.

"Why are Aurors at Hogwarts?" someone in the crowd asked. Even the examiners seemed far too interested in what was happening to corral the students back to their exam.

They were far too away to hear words, but Alexander and the other students watched with a great deal of interest as the five figures marched towards Hagrid's Hut, near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. And then another figure appeared.

Professor McGonagall, in all her Scottish glory, bared down on the five witches and wizards like the angry woman she was. They could hear the barest edge of her shouting, but not enough to listen to what exactly was being said. And then the night was lit up with the blaze of four stunners, sent from the Auror's wands, to smash violently into Professor McGonagall.

On this, Alexander was split. Four stunners were dangerous to anyone unshielded, as it ran the risk of causing permanent nerve damage. Add that to Professor McGonagall's advanced age, and there was a genuine possibility of her being forced to retire because of this unwarranted attack. But then there was the fact that for the past five years, the woman had been making Alexander's life unpleasant, refusing to mark his homework and glaring at him as if he stole her kittens.

So he shrugged and returned to his exam.

There was a faint roaring and more flashes of spellfire, but Alexander barely took note of them, only finding them to be inconvenient in completing his exam. A few minutes later, he rolled up his parchment, handed it in, and left, to take a well-deserved rest before his final exam.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The last day of O.W.L. testing arrived, and it slammed into the fifth year students like a mountain. The examiners saved the most challenging exam for last, History of Magic, somehow knowing that after five years of sleeping through the class, most of the students would probably not do well anyway.

Unless they were like Alexander Dantes, who viciously read every historical text he could get his hands on over the past five years, studying how magical societies rose, grew, and fell all over the globe.

While it would be inaccurate to say the History of Magic was Alexander's favorite class, it would be accurate to say he had a fascination with history, specifically on what caused societies to fall. While History of Magic at Hogwarts was mostly biased towards British History, it did have more than enough leads to other magical communities around the world, each with fascinating takes on magic.

Over the years, Alexander had pieced together a very clear view on the actual Wizarding World, not the biased opinion the British magicals had of it. And what he found was disappointing.

The most forward-thinking country in the magical world was France, considering how relaxed its creature laws were toward Veela, who maintained a significant presence there. However, that was before you dug deeper to find how they forcefully evicted werewolves from their territories, often by use of illegal Portkeys, to dump them in the wilds of North America.

Globally there seemed to be a contempt for muggles, reluctant acceptance to outright hatred for muggle-born and muggle-raised, and outright accepted superiority of pure-bloods. The only exception to the last were the magical nations of North America, but they seemed to be dealing with a constant rise in werewolf population and thus ignored on the global stage as isolationists. Imagine that.

Because of this extensive study, Alexander's History of Magic breezed by quickly, although he was sure some of his correct answers would be marked wrong considering they were not parroting the British propaganda Wizarding Britain was shoving down their student's throats.

As he sat there patiently, waiting for the exam to be over, Alexander allowed his gaze to wander the Great Hall. A few students had fallen asleep, their exams stuck to their faces by drool and ink. A few more had given up entirely and were gazing around bored or doodling on their exams. Alexander could also see Hermione Granger a few rows ahead, frantically scribbling on her test. He privately wished whatever examiner who had to grade that one good luck, as even he had heard of her legendarily lengthy homework essays.

A nodding head a few seats past Granger alerted Alexander of another student about to fall asleep. The chaotic black mess told him it was Potter, and Alexander watched in amusement as his nodding head oscillated wildly before slamming forward with a thunk, waking the Gryffindor as well as startling everyone in the room.

One of the examiners rushed forward. "Are you alright, Mr. Potter?"

The Gryffindor grunted something back and held a hand to his forehead. The examiner nodded and said, "Well, if you're sure, Mr. Potter. Off you go."  
Alexander watched, incredulous that Potter didn't care to finish his exam as well as impressed at the daring it took to walk out of it early. The Gryffindor hurried past him, holding his hand to his forehead, covering his infamous scar. Alexander was mildly surprised that drops of blood oozed past his finger. Did Potter hit his head that hard to make it bleed?

The door shut behind him, and the latest distraction was gone. The sound of quill's scratching parchment filled the air, and Alexander looked around the room, bored out of his mind. He couldn't even look up at the enchanted ceiling and watch clouds pass as someone had disabled the enchantment for the duration of the test.

Eventually, Alexander's eyes rested on the examiners and how relaxed they looked. Putting both his hands on his desk, on either side of his exam, Alexander stilled, focusing his gaze on the nearest window. But his magic was not, as he commanded it to make their hair dance. The result was not what Alexander had expected.

The hair on top of the examiner's head moved, but so did the rest of the hair on their bodies. The exam was briefly paused as every single student looked on in surprise as the O.W.L. examiners moved around wildly. And only Alexander knew the reason why. Disgusted, he cut off the magic immediately, and much to the disappointment of the students, the spectacle was over.

As the adults tried to restore order, a soft giggle behind him made Alexander turn. Daphne Greengrass sat two rows behind him and one seat to his right, and his heart stuttered painfully when he realized she was looking directly at him. He gave her a pain-filled smile and turned away.

The exam finished, and Alexander followed the other students outside in a crowd, the pressing bodies for once not painful as he too desired the freedom fresh air provided. He had barely exited the castle when a soft hand grabbed his, and the smell of lavenders filled his nose. Despite how much it hurt, he felt his body relax at the presence of the one person at Hogwarts who he cared to be around.

"Could we talk?" Daphne Greengrass asked.

Alexander knew he should have said no, that his mind was already listing all of the reasons that this was a horrible idea. But Alexander chose not to listen to it, chose not to obey its cold logic. Instead, he allowed his wounded heart, raw and broken, to speak for him.

"Always."

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

They were sitting near the Whomping Willow, which seemed to be aggressively eyeing a boulder near its roots. How a tree with no eyes or sensory organs of any kind could see, Alexander had no idea, but that's what feeling the tree gave him. This part of the grounds was empty, as most of the students were near the lake, enjoying the cold waters.

Alexander was already regretting his answer to Daphne's question, her blinding smile making his heart ache in such a painful way that he wanted to run away from his her, his feelings, everything. But while he was no Gryffindor, he had plenty of bravery, so he walked beside her to this private spot.

"I hope you've been well," he said softly, knowing he needed to say something. "Have you been practicing your wandless magic?"

She smiled. "Yes, although I've missed our lessons."

"The lessons or how we relaxed afterward?" It slipped out before Alexander could stop himself, and in less time than it took to blink he regretted saying it  
But Daphne only smiled at him. "Yes," she replied. Alexander felt a warm feeling burn through him.

Silence fell between them, and Alexander found his gaze drawn to the Whomping Willow as it began to slam its branches into the boulder. The earth shook slightly with each thud, and Alexander wondered why anyone would want such a violent tree in a school for children.

"Alex, we need to talk," Daphne said. Oh, how he loved hearing her say his name. It brought warmth and comfort to his ears and his heart. He could listen to her talk for ages and never grow bored of her voice.

But she made a statement, and one he knew he could not avoid. "We do," he agreed. But he didn't know how to start.

Fortunately, Daphne did. "I didn't want us to break up," she stated firmly.

Alexander sighed explosively and opened his mouth to reply, but Daphne kept speaking. "I know that I should have sent you a letter on Christmas, but I wasn't thinking straight! My father was blocking my mail and didn't tell me, and I just assumed that you and I would catch up at Hogwarts once the holidays were over! I'm sorry!"

Daphne began to get emotional, tears filling her eyes, as she frantically tried to explain. Alexander wasn't going to let her shoulder all of the blame and knew he had to speak now.

"I am sorry as well," he said. Daphne blinked at him in confusion. "I was angry with your father, not you, and I took it out on you. And that's unforgivable."

"Alex, I don't blame you!" Daphne protested.

"But I blame myself. You have never given me a reason to doubt you, but I did, and that is inexcusable. So, I am sorry that I threw our relationship away so callously." Alexander looked down as shame burned his cheeks. Daphne's arms wrapped around him a moment later as she buried her face into his shoulder.

"I could never hold that against you. You were hurt, you thought I didn't want you and had my father write to you to chase you away. I'm surprised you didn't curse me, to be honest," Daphne said.

Alexander wrapped his arms around her tightly, relishing in the sensation, and how right it felt. "I could never."

The stood like that, holding one another and just basking in the glory of it while the Whomping Willow pounded into the boulder. With a loud crack, it split, startling the two students apart.

"I suppose this is what happens when you don't communicate with your partner," Alexander said. "You break under pressure."

Daphne nodded. "Honest communication. No lies, no secrets between us."

Alexander grimaced. "Do secrets that break everything we know about magic count?" Daphne turned to face him with horrified eyes, causing him to sigh. "So yeah, are you familiar with the Philosopher's Stone?"

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The year ended. Umbridge had somehow been forced out of the castle by Potter and his friends, who had then flown off to the Ministry of Magic on Threstals of all things. But Alexander didn't even pretend to care about the excited gossip around the school as he was focused on much more important things.

He and Daphne were talking once more. His revelations about the Philosopher's Stone and how runic languages, and magic in general, were created stunned her into silence for an hour. When Daphne finally snapped out of it, she warned him never to tell anyone else these things as it would only bring misfortune upon them both. She was relieved when he easily agreed, not that it was difficult for him to do so.

Alexander trusted Daphne. There was no one else in the entire world that knew and understood him the way she did. He was a little wary of her sister, Astoria, or best friend, Tracey Davis, knowing, but Daphne agreed to keep his secrets silent as well. She admitted that knowledge of such things would only make them targets, and she had no wish for her sister and best friend to be endangered in that manner.

Their brief reunion was timely as Daphne revealed a spell that her mother had used when she was in Hogwarts. It linked two mirrors, allowing two people to talk to one another no matter the distance. It took some doing, but Alexander and Daphne worked out a way to apply it to the stone tablets.

Alexander's Christmas gift to Daphne was a copy of his tablet. He found that it was impossible to copy memories in a Pensieve; their nature was far too fragile to permit that. Instead, he had found a new use for an old spell. Utilizing the same spell that once allowed him to read his non-magical books in London from Hogwarts, Alexander found he could use the same spell to read the memories on a tablet that had no books added.

Since the new tablets were not pulling the memory to them, merely reading it remotely, multiple tablets could read the same book without issue, or at least six could as that's how many Alexander tested. While Alexander kept the Pensieve tablet in a safe place, the new tablets didn't have the memory function, as he deemed it unnecessary. Still, it was an incredible Magical Artifact and one that Daphne had put to great use for studying for her classes.

With the new spell that Daphne provided, the tablets could now double as communication devices, allowing them to talk and see each other whenever they wanted. When Alexander pressed for the history of the spell, Daphne admitted with a blush that her mother had learned it from Sirius Black and that the pair had an odd relationship while they were at Hogwarts. Understanding Daphne's desire to drop the subject of her mother's teenage dating years, Alexander did so, instead focusing on upgrading their tablets with the new spells.

Which was why, as Alexander watched the Hogwarts Express pull away with Daphne on it, he felt no loss. There was nothing for him to return to in London, no family to greet him as he got off the train. Instead, Alexander turned and began to walk away from Hogsmeade, entering the Forbidden Forest.

All Alexander had was his mind, his magic, and his tablet. He was going to roam Great Britain, exploring it, and surviving off the land. He wondered if he could do it.

He looked forward to finding out.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: End of Year Six.

I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	14. Year 6 Part 1

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander Dantes was not on the Hogwarts Express.

He sat in the shadow of the Forbidden Forest, which overlooked the magical village of Hogsmeade. One would not be able to tell by looking at him that he had spent the last few months sleeping outside, as his clothes were clean, his hair trimmed, and his skin had the healthy glow of someone who spent a great deal of time outdoors. Only two things stood out on him that would make anyone do a double-take, the first would be the numerous scars that covered his skin, a reminder of how his family was murdered in front of him, and his eyes.

They did not glow with repressed power, nor were they a striking shade of color, inhuman to look at. In fact, they could almost be described as perfectly ordinary were they not staring with the intensity of a thousand stars at the tracks leading out of Hogsmeade, disappearing into the distance.

Alexander had spent much of this past summer healing. He did not know or understand just how raw he was still feeling over his family's deaths, not until he was alone in the wilderness. He must have walked for hours, aimless, before coming upon a mountain in a forest of trees. With no preparation, no food or water within his grasp, he began to climb. And as he ascended, he felt clarity coming to him.

It felt as though he were climbing out of the very pits of hell, reaching the safety of the mortal world, and then choosing to ascend even higher. He climbed, his limbs burning with exertion, and he relished it, reveling in how it made him feel alive.

Alexander could not reach the peak before night fell, nor even climb half the steep mountain. He used his magic to melt a ledge into the cliff-face and summoned water to quench his thirst. But the hunger Alexander let remain, unwilling to use magic to summon sustenance to him, no matter how it might help him. He needed to do this.

So on that cold, windy shelf, he slept. His weary body succumbed without issue, however, and he slept through the night to wake up stiff the next morning. He resumed his climb eagerly, but the moment he left his ledge, Alexander paused, turning back to it.

A moment later, it vanished, magic reversing the changes he made. He didn't know why, but Alexander felt it was important to undo the damages he had done to the world, even the ones that were beneficial. He thought to himself how important it was to take only what was needed and to return what he didn't. He resumed his climb.

Despite how hunger sapped at his limbs, Alexander felt invigorated. His mind, hands, and magic were the only tools he had, and while he had honed the first and last the most over the years, he was determined to rely on the second as much as possible. It was balance, Alexander realized around noon that day. He wanted balance.

A fresh wave of energy overcame him, and Alexander climbed the afternoon away. He was high now, and he could see nothing but forests and mountains all around him. As he stopped that evening to rest, he was again tempted to find food, and this time he obeyed.

Spotting birds flying in the distance, dancing in front of a setting sun, Alexander raised his hands and readied his magic, but something told him to stop for a moment. He watched as one of the birds swooped down, faster than anything Alexander had ever seen in his life. It disappeared into the trees below, and after a moment, he expected a puff of feathers to fly up, signaling the demise of the bird. Instead, a moment passed before the bird reappeared, a rabbit clutched in its talons.

It returned to a nest somewhere to Alexander's right, but he was no longer focused on it. Instead, he marveled at the sheer daring required to do that, to launch yourself at the forest below and to weave between the interlocking limbs of the trees, all to catch a meal. Alexander wondered how hungry the bird must be to do that, how long it's gone without food to wait for the perfect moment to feast.

The sun set, and Alexander went to sleep without eating once more. Despite the protests of his body, Alexander slept peacefully and woke up refreshed. His magic almost seemed to be thrumming with joy within him as he started once more.

Over the past two days, his climb hasn't just been a vertical ascent. There were times where he needed to cross chasms, leap across gaps, or backtrack to move forward. When and where he could, he would forgo the use of magic, saving it within him, although he didn't know for what. But the moment he reached the peak, Alexander knew exactly what he was preserving his magic for.

Watching the birds soar in the distance, without a care in the world, Alexander steadied himself. It was no easy thing to look over the edge of a cliff, at the steep drop below. There was fear, of so many different reasons, and also regret. But Alexander steeled himself, and with three quick steps, he threw himself from the mountain peak.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander Dantes did not fly, but he would later argue he fell with style.

Even that was inaccurate. He tried to keep himself aloft, but the magic slipped through his grasp as he slipped through the air. On the edge of his senses, something lurked, some path forward that would enable him to fly, but it eluded him. He fell through the air like a rock.

Alexander would later comfort himself that at least he didn't scream as he fell thousands of feet. He was very alarmed, however, with how quickly the ground rushed to meet him. Struggling to fly futilely, Alexander gave it up, and instead wrapped himself in spells in an attempt to slow himself down.

It was partially successful. Instead of landing with a splat, Alexander bounced. The spells failed almost instantly, and after flying through the air, Alexander collided painfully with a tree, a much more meaty thwack that echoed sounded as unpleasant as it felt. But once he finally stopped moving, he was pleased to discover himself in one piece, if a bit bloody and bruised.

Alexander must have laid there for half an hour before he could muster up the energy to move. When he finally staggered to his feet and looked around, examining the clearing he was in, a storm of thoughts overcame him.

It should be noted that Alexander Dantes was not a normal man. A normal man, or wizard, would have the belief that they walked away from an accident that should have killed them, that they should consider themselves lucky. Alexander, however, was only focused on the magic and, more specifically, how his magic acted under duress. And he how much he wanted to fly.

So he made a camp. Using his hands, he built himself a small shelter to protect himself from the elements. Using his magic, he warded away hostile creatures, unwilling to kill them when they could be spared so easily. But as he did this his stomach rumbled, alerting him that he had not eaten for days. So he foraged.

Finding fish was easy; catching them by hand was not. But one transfigured net later and Alexander had the beginning of supper, in the form of two fish. Alexander had little experience in preparing fish, as the only fish he had ever seen were already cut and prepared by the time they reached his local market. Still, he gave it his best shot and was rewarded with two raggedly looking fish.

He quickly had them roasting over a fire built by magic. Before too long, a mouthwatering smell filled the air, and Alexander's stomach rumbles increased to match it. Finally, he could wait no longer and pulled the two fish to himself.

Looking back on it, Alexander could admit it wasn't a very good meal. But with how starved his body was for nutrients, it might as well been a feast of the gods with how fast he devoured it. All too soon, he was finished, and he almost used his magic to catch more fish when he stopped himself.

Was he actually hungry? Could he even eat more if caught it, or would he just get sick? Alexander wrestled with the thoughts before regaining control over himself, forcing himself to relax. He and his body were one; its instincts were not in control of him. So instead of stuffing his face as it wanted to, he instead went to bed.

Alexander rose with the sun the next day, and even though he was stiff from the climbing and the hard crash, he felt amazing. As he looked around at the rough camp he had created, up at the peak that towered overhead, he found himself grinning in excitement.

This would be fun.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander never did attain actual flight that summer. He climbed up the mountain every seven days and threw himself off, trying and failing to use his magic to achieve flight. Sometimes he would succeed in gliding a little, projecting himself forward for one startling moment, but it always failed, and gravity reasserted its domain over his body.

But he took it as progress. After every failure, he would return to his little camp and would reflect on the experience. For the climbs Alexander always abstained from eating, he knew it was illogical, but something about the experience demanded it of him. But he always feasted when he returned to camp.

The fasting, feasting, and physical labor began to show on his body. He was never a large boy growing up, always slight and average in height. But a summer of climbing a mountain showed on his maturing body, broadening and lengthening his frame. He would never be as large or fit as a bodybuilder, but with his magic and mind, he didn't need to be.

Daphne Greengrass, his girlfriend, only managed to call him a handful of times that summer using the tablets he had made, but Alexander appreciated it nonetheless. Her father was being poached by members of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters, and regardless of their neutrality, a certain image needed to be portrayed. The heiress of the family talking to a muggle-born like Alexander? It would have resulted in the deaths of everyone involved.

So Alexander focused on himself. He read when he wanted, what he wanted, casting magic to his heart's content. The Ministry of Magic supposedly tracked magic cast in Great Britain, but Alexander had long since determined that to only meant magic cast by a wand. Most likely by some spell cast on each wand before Ollivander sold it, as a ward that could cover and track a country, even as small as the United Kingdom, would be too massive for anyone to accomplish without sacrificing millions.

His isolation from civilization was particularly telling when one day, an owl joined him on his climb. It was only partly through the second day of his ascent, just past half-way to the top, when it alighted on a broken ledge nearby. It hooted at him, confused as to what he was doing, and to Alexander's surprise, he hooted back.

It took a long, embarrassing moment for sanity to return to him, and he quickly transfigured a ledge to sit on, as well as a bowl of water for the poor creature to sip while he regained his senses. A moment later, he relieved it of its letter, sending it on its way to no doubt tell other post owls what an absurdly weird wizard it just delivered mail to.

Alexander shook his head to clear his thoughts. Post owls don't secretly gossip about the witches and wizards they serve. He turned over the letter in his hand and was briefly amused to see his Hogwarts letter addressed to "Some Bloody Cliff, Scotland". He briefly wondered if that had drawn anyone's attention before it was sent off or if it was all done by charm.

Opening it up, he was reminded that he needed to make his way to London to buy his supplies, before realizing that was foolish and that he could just purchase them in Hogsmeade. However, it was the second letter inside that garnered his attention, as they were his O.W.L. results.

The neat little row of Outstandings brought a smile to Alexander's face. He wondered if the Hogwarts professors were aware of these scores. He would have loved to see McGonagall's or Vector's faces when they realize he aced their classes, despite their nasty dispositions.

Alexander only intended to take Ancient Runes, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, and Transfiguration for the next two years. The less time he spent with the other students, the better, especially since he was becoming increasingly disappointed with the wizarding world. He had done more magic in one summer than in years at Hogwarts, with their structured learning and classes. Modern witches and wizards didn't seem to understand that magic meant freedom; it wanted to be used. Using it to make teacups tap dance was a crime.

A tremor of magic went through him. Alexander tensed, before realizing it was his own, reacting to his thoughts. Reinvigorated, he resumed his climb, embracing the knowledge that he was about to use his magic for the highest pursuit of all: survival.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The Hogwarts Express pulling into Hogsmeade, snapped Alexander out of his memories. Uncaring of the leaves or dirt attached to his pants, he made his way down to join the crowds of students, who, despite confirmation that the Dark Lord had returned, were quite happy to see one another. It was the paradox of youth; they were aware of the danger yet could be self-absorbed enough to forget about it.

Alexander joined the masses moving toward the carriages. The Thestrals pulling the carriages looked vaguely like demons but were docile as the students climbed into their carriages. Alexander wondered how many of the students could see the beasts; after all, only those who had seen death could see them.

Climbing into one of the carriages, he was briefly surprised to find other students following him. The green trim of their robes told him they were Slytherins, and their unfamiliar and young faces told him they were at least a year behind him, if not two. The one in front had an unfortunately large nose, especially with how she turned it up when she saw him.

"This is our carriage, get out," she ordered. The two boys that followed her nodded in agreement.

Alexander gave them a dismissive once over. "No," he finally said, settling into the uncomfortable seat. "I shan't."

The two boys looked dumbfounded that anyone would disagree, but it was trumped by how furious the girl was. She pulled her wand out. "You'll leave, or else!" she shouted. Alexander was vaguely aware of the crowd of students watching their carriage through the window.

"Or else, what?" he asked, honestly curious with what she'd threaten him with.

"I'll curse you!" she shouted shrilly. Alexander was a little disappointed. They didn't make bullies like they used to. "Move, Mudblood!"

In an instant, Alexander's eyes narrowed dangerously as he shifted his gaze from the waiting students to the foolish trio. The stupid Slytherin was smirking down at him.

"Well, if you insist," Alexander replied casually. In the blink of an eye, his wand was in his hand, and the tip poked the girl in the belly.

A flash of blinding light blinded everyone, hiding the fact that Alexander used his wandless magic to curse the three Slytherins with a variety of curses, ranging from simple tongue-tying to ones that would make them feel like something was itchy under their hair. That one, in particular, was applied to all three, making it so when one scratched, the itchiness would increase on the other two. He ended it by banishing the three Slytherin's from his carriage.

Even though his wand was broken years ago, Alexander was still fond of it, making sure to keep it in good shape. It had been snapped a few times this summer, unfortunate crashes with boulders and trees, but had been fixed with an easy Repairing Charm afterward. He slid it back into his robes just as a large man pushed his way through the crowd of staring students.

"I say, what's going on here?" he asked, wheezing slightly. Alexander didn't recognize him at all.

"Just a minor disagreement about seating arrangements, the two lads seem to be vying for the young ladies' approval," Alexander said. The trio groaning on the ground began to scratch themselves.

"What are they doing?" the man asked, wide-eyed. One of the boys scratched himself on the groin, causing the other two to as well.

Alexander had to stop himself from laughing. The curse he used would target any skin underneath hair, which apparently included the groin. Add in the fact that he linked it between the three Slytherins, and they were all wildly scratching themselves while groaning. It looked quite obscene.

"If I had to guess," and how Alexander said this with a straight face, he'll never know, "I would say that they seem to have caught something. Judging by the location of their focus, I would wager it to be sexual."

This got the watching crowd of students whispering, spreading gossip with a speed that even a jet would be envious of. That most of Hogwarts was watching meant the only ones who wouldn't know about this must have been stunned or blind.

"Right, enough of that then," the man said, flicking his wand. The three Slytherins went as stiff as a board and were levitated to a new carriage. "Let's get you to Madame Pomfrey."

Completely unconcerned with the possibility that the man was kidnapping three Hogwarts students, Alexander relaxed into his seat. He was unsurprised that the carriage started moving a moment later, with no one else willing to join him.

It was perhaps, the first sensible thing the students of Hogwarts ever did.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The Welcoming Feast of Hogwarts was spoken all over the world as a fantastic work of art, with mountains of dishes lovingly cooked by House-elves, artistically decorated, and devoured by hungry students. It took Alexander two bites to determine that the first fish he cooked and ate this summer was not only leagues better in taste but also less likely to clog his arteries.

As he sampled the few fruits and vegetables available, he allowed his eye to wander the Great Hall. Daphne Greengrass was sitting with her back to him, with her sister sitting in her shadow. Judging by the tenseness of the two witches, he reasoned it had more to do with protecting Astoria, than not. Across from them sat Tracey Davis, Daphne's best friend who was glaring at a smirking Theodore Nott a ways down the table.

Up at the staff table sat the man who had dragged the three Slytherins off. He had been introduced as Professor Slughorn, here to take over as Potions Professor while Snape moved on to Defense Against the Dark Arts. As interesting as all that was, Alexander was uncaring as he was dropping the class; thus, he would have very little to do with the new professor.

Alexander, and the rest of Hogwarts, were briefly surprised when Harry Potter showed up late to the feast, with a face covered in blood. It sent whispers throughout the hall, chasing away talk of the three Slytherins that Alexander had cursed.

Snape's new appointment brought conflicting thoughts to Alexander. On the one hand, the man had a caustic personality, delighting in belittling anyone who didn't have an intuitive grasp of the many rules and conditions of Potions. On the other hand, he had spent the past sixteen years teaching Potions, and if he were any good of an instructor, Dumbledore would have moved him ages ago. Still, Alexander would wait and see.

Alexander was briefly surprised when someone nudged him. Looking up, he made eye contact with Sue Li, another Ravenclaw in his year. "Yes?"

"We're talking about our O.W.L. results," she said. Behind her sat the rest of the Ravenclaw sixth years. Alexander hadn't even noticed he sat down near them. "What was yours?"

He raised a curious brow, curious as to why they were speaking to him. "I passed," he said shortly.

"Yeah, but what did you get?" Michael Corner demanded angrily. Alexander made a point of grabbing a slice of pie and eating a piece before answering.

"Outstanding," he finally said, well aware that it wouldn't answer Corner's question.

Seeing that Michael Corner grew red in the face, Terry Boot cut in before he could cause a scene. "Outstanding in what?"

Debating against eating another bite to spite them, Alexander answered, "everything."

This seemed to surprise them all. "Wow, that's impressive," Sue Li said, smiling shyly at him. Alexander didn't know why, but it set him on edge.

However, his answer didn't impress one of them. "It's bloody annoying is what it is," Michael Corner protested. "He wasn't even in Potter's DA!"

"Shh!" Mandy Brocklehurst shushed him. "I don't think we're supposed to talk about that," she whispered.

Resisting the urge to point out how little he cared about what they did, Alexander turned his attention back to his pie. A soft tug alerted him that Sue Li wasn't done talking to him, however.

"Maybe you could help me this year?" she asked. No one else seemed to be paying them attention. "It'd be nice to get to know you."

In the past, both of those statements would have made anger storm through Alexander like a hurricane. But a summer of climbing a mountain, only to throw himself off, went a long way in bringing his turbulent emotions under control. Which was why his answer was short and to the point.

"No thanks," he said, climbing to his feet. He left without a backward glance.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Despite Alexander's wish, it took him and Daphne a week to finally meet up. And that week was enough to tell him that this would be another year where he would be massively disappointed by the teaching quality of Hogwarts.

Three of his classes demanded the use of silent casting, a technique in which a witch or wizard relies solely on their focus to cast a spell. Considering that Alexander had been spending years doing this already, he had little trouble in the classes, usually waiting a moment or two before lazily waving his dead wand and wandlessly casting the spell.

Professor McGonagall seemed to hate seeing him in her class. The first class involved an impromptu oral exam from her that Alexander was reasonably sure she decided on the spot to use to get rid of him. That he answered her questions without issue only infuriated her, and she elected to return to ignoring his presence utterly.

Since taking multiple Stunning Spells to the chest didn't remove the stick from her ass, Alexander elected to ignore her right back. In truth, the only reason why he was still taking this class was that he was using it to further his studies in Alchemy, which was far closer to Transfiguration than Potions, despite what people thought.

Alexander had two Philosopher's Stones at his disposal, the one that he grew from the shard that belonged to Nicolas Flamel's, and the one he grew out of a casket of his own blood. But Alexander was positive he could purify the stones and make them even more powerful. He just needed to figure out how.

Charms was a non-issue. Ever since the Career Counseling meeting last year, Professor Flitwick avoided Alexander like the plague. Alexander blatantly ignored his lessons in favor of his own studies, often performing spells months ahead of schedule just to tweak Flitwick's nose. It was petty, but Alexander found it to be cathartic.

Defense Against the Dark Arts with Snape was fascinating. Potter and the professor seemed to be one insult away from blows every lesson, which always proved to be an amusing spectacle. However, when Snape deigned to lecture, it was filled with useful details and personal experiences with spells of all sorts of effects. Despite the past five years of shoddy professors, Alexander was actually learning things under Snape's tutelage, not that he'd ever tell him that.

Alexander's final class, Ancient Runes, was acceptable. Professor Babbling always looked at Alexander as if she were unable to figure something out as if he were a piece of a puzzle, and she was trying to put together a different set. He never told her his theories or discoveries on Ancient Runes, rightly assuming it to be too dangerous, but Alexander sometimes wondered if she suspected him of being more advanced than the other students.

Which he was. He was making alert wards and basic protections as a first-year, something they had only learned last year. Pacing himself with the rest of the class was only doomed for failure. He read ahead, he read the notes and tests of students long since graduated, and he always questioned why magic worked the way it did. Alexander knew he had an understanding of magic that surpassed most of the adults in the wizarding world, let alone his fellow students.

Which led him back to Daphne Greengrass, who just entered the abandoned classroom he was waiting in. He smiled at her, and she gave him a scowl back. She jerked her hand behind her, dragging in Astoria and Tracey, both bound, gagged, and obviously grinning at the pair.

"They wouldn't let me come by myself," she explained. Alexander shrugged before stepping forward, wrapping her in a hug and kissing her for the first time in months.

It continued for quite some time, one of Daphne's prisoners gagging at the sight, before the pair finally split. "I'm glad to see you've been practicing," Alexander finally said, his head resting on Daphne's. Her eyes were so beautiful.

She poked him in the side, causing him to jerk back in surprise. "You could have warned me the Trace doesn't work on wandless magic. These two idiots have been annoying me all summer, and we could have talked more if I could have cast a Silencing Spell!"

Alexander shrugged. "I thought it would have been obvious. I just assumed your father was keeping you busy."

Daphne slumped against an abandoned desk, waving her hand at Astoria and Tracey. "Finite. It's been horrible. My father keeps being invited to these gatherings for Pure-bloods, and he's running out of excuses to decline. Mother is no help. She keeps pushing for him to go."

"Air, sweet air!" Tracey gasped dramatically. No one laughed, causing her to pout. It didn't last long as she perked up and focused intently on Alexander. "So you taught Daphne wandless magic and didn't invite me? I thought we had a connection."

"We have a friend in common," Alexander dryly said, sitting next to Daphne. She dug an elbow into his side.

"I'm only a friend?" Daphne asked, the threat clear in her voice.

Alexander winced. "You are unless you and Tracey are also dating. If so, I would have liked to have been told, as that's something I think I should have known."

"You two are dating?" Astoria asked, shocked. "Father is going to kill him!"

Daphne rolled her eyes at that. "I'm more worried about Alex killing father in self-defense than I am about the reverse."

When neither Alexander nor Tracey refuted that, Astoria's eyes only grew wider. "How can you say that our father was a dueling champion!"

Tracey snorted. "I don't think someone who can summon Dementors is going to be overly concerned about a dueling champion."

Astoria twisted so fast that her hair whipped through the air. "Summon Dementors?" she screeched. Alexander sighed.

"Daphne, did you place any Silencing Charms on the hallway before coming in?" he asked. To his relief, she nodded.

"And a basic Aversion Charm. I didn't want to cause a scene by dragging these two bound through the halls."

"You mean it's true?" Astoria whispered, shocked that someone still attending Hogwarts could summon a Dementor.

"I can't summon Dementors," Alexander explained. Astoria breathed a sigh of relief. "I called one, and it answered."

The three girls seemed to be even more shocked by that. Even Daphne was looking at him in a new light. "Really? Because it looked like you just summoned one from the forest," she said.

Alexander shook his head. "I threw out my magic with a message, and it answered—sort of. I guess there was also a component of summoning with it, but it was less of a physical come here and more of metaphysical one. Regardless, the Dementor answered and talked, which implies there some degree of intelligence behind their actions."

Shaking off that unnerving thought, Alexander focused on the still stunned Astoria and Tracey. "So why are they here?" he asked Daphne.

Astoria still seemed out of it, but Tracey focused on him intently, giving him a pleading look that immediately made him suspicious. "Can you teach us wandless magic?" she asked. Astoria quickly snapped out of it and joined her pleading looks.

Alexander looked at Daphne to see her look resigned. With a sigh, Alexander held out his hand. "Give me your wands."

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: Start of Year Six!

I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	15. Year 6 Part 2

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

To Daphne's pleasure, neither witch seemed to grasp the concepts of wandless magic. They seemed to think there was no danger being without their wand, and when Alexander lit two fake wands on fire in front of them, Astoria quickly guessed that he wouldn't have burned their real wands, calming Tracey down. A few hours later, the group called it quits, with a smug Daphne leading her sister and best friend away.

Alexander was pleased that he could see Daphne again after months apart but annoyed that their reunion had been disturbed by an impromptu tutoring session. Still, he knew how valuable a skill wandless magic was, and was quite willing to impart what he knew upon the two Slytherins who meant that much to Daphne. Even if it did cut into their time together.

Still, it'd be a while before he and Daphne would be able to have time together, what with how her focus was split between classes and in keeping the darker elements of House Slytherin away from her sister. Tracey was only partially helpful in this, too busy trading in favors to protect herself, as being a half-blood in Slytherin was no easy task.

Alexander knew he couldn't help them. Were it a simple issue of removing the bullies he would, but Daphne had impressed upon him how political the climate of House Slytherin was. He, and she, both knew he had better things to spend his time with.

Like copying the Restricted Section of Hogwart's Library. Every sixth and seventh year had unrestricted access to it so that they could study for their classes and exams without issue. Alexander spent weeks among those books, disabling not just the copywriting charms on them, but also the curses many of the books had been afflicted with. He made sure to recast them once he was done.

Due to the delicate nature of the spells and books involved, it took him almost two months to finish it, and they could not have passed by slower. And it was mostly because of Sue Li.

Alexander didn't understand why, but it seemed as though every time he turned around in the library, Sue Li was there, waiting to ask him a question. No sooner had he answered it, usually some trivial thing about one of their classes, than she would disappear. He didn't know what to make of it, and he wasn't sure how to bring it up to Daphne.

He had gotten lucky, extraordinarily so, in copying the library texts in that no one had caught him yet. Which was probably why reality had to throw him a curveball on the last day he did his task on the last book he needed. He had no sooner placed it back on the shelf, spells restored, when Madame Pince rushed into the Forbidden Section, her eyes locked onto him.

"What were you doing with that book?" she demanded, whipping her wand out and casting spells on it. Her eyes seemed to widen in surprise when the results revealed the protection spells seemed to be strengthened. "What did you do?"

Knowing he was caught, Alexander chose to come clean. "I was improving the protection spells on the books," he explained. Well, partly clean. He wasn't stupid.

He gestured at the library around them. "I cast the spells on the rest of the library too. I didn't want the books to get damaged by some idiot waving his wand around like a loon."

"So, you waved your wand around instead?" Madame Pince hissed. Her wand whipped about, casting spells wildly at the shelves. "Idiot boy, I'll have to undo all of this! Get out of my library, and never come back!"

Alexander raised his eyebrow but said nothing as he collected his things as he left. In truth, he could have argued he made the books much safer than they were initially, as his additions covered a wide range of dangers. Still, if she wanted to make her books less safe, that was her business. He already had a library of his own.

"I'm sorry to hear you got banned from the library, Alexander," Sue Li's soft voice said. "If you'd like, I can check out books for you."

Surprised by her sudden appearance, but suspicious of the timing of her statement, Alexander shook his head. "No, thanks."

He walked away from her shocked face. After all, what Ravenclaw says no to books?

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander should have known better than to assume that Sue Li would leave him alone. He hadn't slept or even entered Ravenclaw tower in years, and his hidden sanctuary was safe from prying eyes, but before and after every class, she seemed to find him. She was starting to become more direct with him, telling him all about her family, her likes and dislikes, as well as mentioning the various Hogsmeade trips coming up.

Whenever she popped up, he would walk faster, using the bodies of his fellow students as barricades to impede the relentless girl. It got so bad that Alexander briefly contemplated hexing her, but reasoned that was just a step too far to take with her. So instead, he asked his girlfriend, Daphne Greengrass, for advice.

"I'm going to hex her," Daphne growled. Alexander chuckled and wrapped his arm around her tighter. They were walking through the halls of Hogwarts to do something very important to Alexander, something he never thought he was going to do: He was going to show her his private rooms.

It wasn't an easy decision, but with Astoria and Tracey knowing about their usual haunt, he felt it was time. Alexander trusted Daphne as much as he trusted his family, and while he was terrified about her rejecting him, he was willing to take the chance. Although, it was kind of fun watching her get riled up over him.

"I'm going to curse all her hair off," Daphne muttered, still plotting against Sue Li, "and dye her skin lime green."

Privately, Alexander was amused that Daphne's plans were this mundane, especially since his first revenge plot involved getting two seventh years expelled. He almost opened his mouth to remind her of this before shutting it, realizing that as annoying as Sue Li was, it wasn't something to ruin her life over.

Pulling Daphne to a stop near a blank piece of wall, he gently kissed her to stop her muttered rant, a kiss that he was pleased to find her relaxing into. He pulled away and smiled at her, admiring the way she smiled back. "We're here," he said, nodding to the blank wall.

"You wanted to show me a wall? Alex, Hogwarts is full of those," Daphne joked, but her eyes searched the wall regardless. "It looks normal."

Alexander smirked before flicking his finger at the wall. First one brick began rotating, then a second, before dozens began turning, pulling back into an archway. Daphne stared at Alexander's grinning face with an incredulous look.

"You stole Diagon Alley's entrance?" she asked, almost as if she could not believe his audacity. He shrugged and walked in.

"That's not the only spell on the wall, of course, I made it so you can't tap the brick with a wand or even a finger to activate it. Hypothetically, only someone who can do wandless magic should be able to get in," he explained as he walked into his repurposed space.

He hadn't changed much over the years. The worktables and shelves were cleared of bones, the jars of long-dead things disposed of. The shelves were full of his past projects, the stone tablets chief among them, but here and there other odd things that Alexander had experimented with lay. Like the jar of everlasting ice that spread where ever there was heat, or the pen he cursed to write backward. Just your average, what can magic do, experiments.

Daphne was silent as she explored his workshop. She poked a few of his items, fiddled with the star globe he was trying to create, but mostly looked around with the air of an amateur admiring an expert's work without any knowledge of what any of it was. Alexander could tell she was bored.

It wasn't that she wasn't impressed by the assortment of magical artifacts on display. She knew enough about magic to appreciate the skill required to make them. But she had grown up her entire life around such things, and they might as well be commonplace.

But Alexander knew this, which was why he dragged her into the bedroom to show her the view. Unimpeded before them was a view of the Black Lack, and the Forbidden Forest beyond it, with no glass or walls hindering the view. And although magic held back the elements, a gentle breeze could be felt coming into the room. It was beautiful.

As Daphne turned to say so, she found Alexander's lips on hers. She smiled into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. They fell, in a heap of giggles and soft kisses, upon his bed.

And time went on.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

It was the day before the Winter Holidays that Daphne seemed to lose her patience with Sue Li's repeated attempts on her boyfriend, not that anyone knew that fact. No, Alexander and the rest of Hogwarts were startled one morning by a scream of horror of such volume that it echoed unpleasantly afterward. Not a student moved from the Great Hall, where they ate their breakfast, staring at the closed doors in confusion.

Well, most of them. Alexander's eyes spotted Daphne sitting at the Slytherin table with a look of satisfaction upon her face, not unlike a cat who just ate a tasty morsel. She caught Alexander's eye and gave him a quick wink before schooling her features into a bored curiosity that matched the rest of Slytherin.

And not a moment too soon as the doors to the Great Hall slammed open to reveal Sue Li. The usually put together young woman was anything but this morning, her bathrobe poorly tied up, her shoes missing, and a wild look in her eye, but that was nothing compared to the rest of her. Someone had spelled all the hair off of her body and dyed her skin lime green.

"Dantes!" she screeched as she stomped into the hall. She let out a pained gasp and grabbed her face. A few nearby students began to giggle, but she paid them no mind. "Dantes, what did you do to me!"

Honestly surprised and completely innocent, all Alexander could do was shake his head. "I have no idea what's going on," he said. Somehow he wasn't surprised the rest of Hogwarts didn't believe him.

"Mr. Dantes!" Professor McGonagall's shrill tone announced her arrival. Sue Li only groaned again as she held her face. "What is going on here?" she demanded.

He shrugged. "I truthfully don't know, professor," he said as Flitwick joined her. The Ravenclaws sitting near him scooted away from the scene, unwilling to be hit by shrapnel. "I was just eating my breakfast, see?"

The three professors looked at Alexander's partially eaten fruit. Professor McGonagall eyed his grapes as if they personally offended her. "Filius, see to Ms. Li if you'd be so kind."

The half-goblin professor did so, coaxing Sue Li's hands away from her face. Once they were moved, the entire hall gasped in surprise, disgust, and humor, Alexander included. There on the tip of Sue Li's nose was five of the most grotesque warts ever to be seen.

"It's like they grew on top of one another," Professor Flitwick murmured. The students nearby began to whisper excitedly, spreading the news. "But there's no sign of a lingering curse. Odd."

Alexander had a vague suspicion that Daphne was actively cursing Sue Li the moment she walked into the hall but was wise enough to not look at her to check. Instead, he focused on the irate Professor McGonagall.

"Would you like some apple, professor?" he asked, holding one out for her. She gave it the dirtiest look a woman could give a piece of fruit.

"You will tell me what you've cursed this poor girl with at once, Mr. Dantes!" she demanded. Sue Li gasped painfully as another wart grew on the tip of her nose. "What in the world?"

"It appears that every time we say, Mr. Dantes, sorry Ms. Li, another wart appears. What a fascinating curse," Professor Flitwick muttered, his wand dancing around Sue Li. "I can't detect anything at all."

"So any time someone says my name, Sue Li gets a wart on her nose?" Alexander asked out loud for the whole hall to hear. A hush fell over the students before a few troublesome Gryffindors started calling out his name.

Fortunately for Sue Li, Professor Flitwick was quick with his wand, and only a few warts appeared on her. Unfortunately for her, Daphne wasn't done dishing out her punishment and made the last particularly vicious.

Sue Li fell to her knees as warts began appearing all over her body, the pulsing masses making it far too unpleasant to stand. Professor Flitwick took pity on the girl and quickly gestured for Mandy Brocklehurst and Padma Patil to take her to the Hospital Wing. Then he turned his frown upon Alexander.

Alexander, for his part, had returned to his breakfast. It was the whole point of coming down here after all, even if he knew he could call Mopsy to his room with food. He internally shuddered at the thought of that, wise to the fact that House-elves liked causing and cleaning up after chaos a little too much to be healthy. A throat clearing itself alerted Alexander that someone was still focused on him.

"Yes, professor?" he asked Professor McGonagall. Her face was pale, and her lips thin as she glared down at him.

"How did you curse Ms. Li?" she demanded. Her glare did not lessen when Alexander shrugged.

"Wasn't me, professor. Besides, when would I have had the time to, I've been here since breakfast began."

He was vaguely surprised when a few third years chimed in from nearby, claiming that he was there before they were, and they were here first. Alexander belatedly realized that they were some of the kids he helped teach Animation and Transfiguration Spells to two years ago, and he felt a great rush of gratitude toward them. He absentmindly wondered if they still practiced.

But it was Lisa Turpin who spoke up timidly that caught Alexander's attention. "Sue looked like that when we woke up today, professors. She was trying to charm it away when I left. I guess she gave up, but the wart thing is new."

"Must be some sort of triggered spell," Professor Flitwick muttered. Alexander almost rolled his eyes. Of course, the man would be more interested in the magic involved than the welfare of his student. Professor McGonagall wasn't as easily distracted.

"How did you get up into the girl's dormitory?" she demanded, and suddenly Alexander had a lot more attention on him than he liked as suspicious girls and eager boys looked at him.

Fortunately, he wasn't an idiot. "Professor, are you trying to imply that a sixth-year student overcame the protective spells cast by our founders almost a thousand years ago?" he asked, and the whole Great Hall seemed to laugh at that.

Privately, Alexander was laughing too. The legend that the Founders of Hogwarts cast the spells was a lie; one thought up by the faculty to prevent hormonal idiots from getting into trouble. The spells involved were a simple gender identification charm, linked to the stairs, that had to be recast by the Heads of each House every year. That the lie was so easily swallowed was disappointing, did no one remember Professor Babbling's lecture from third year? It would take an incredible effort to make a spell last a thousand years. It would be far more sensible to have one wizard cast the spell once a year.

Alexander paused, thinking over that statement carefully before dismissing it for the time being, as he needed to get rid of the attention on him. "Is there anything else, professors?" he asked. There was nothing they could do without seeing him cast a spell anyway.

From the way Professor McGonagall was gnashing her teeth angrily, she knew it too. "I will be keeping my eye on you, Mr. Dantes," she said threateningly. She angrily stomped away.

Considering she generally didn't like him anyway, Alexander didn't let that bother him too much. Which only left Professor Flitwick, who was looking at him sheepishly.

"I'll be going home this Christmas," Alexander suddenly said, startling the tiny man. "The train leaves tomorrow, correct?"

"Well, yes, Mr. Dantes, but I thought your family was no longer among us?" Professor Flitwick asked. Alexander wondered how the man became a professor with that little tact.

"I have a home, professor," Alexander said icily. He refused to allow his eyes to dart to Slytherin's table. "You needn't be concerned."

Professor Flitwick opened and closed his mouth several times before sighing and walking away. And in Alexander's honest opinion, that was all he was good for.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

His mountain home was covered in snow.

It had taken Alexander a little bit longer to navigate the snow-filled land, but he relished being outside once more. He never realized how stuffy and oppressive Hogwart's dark corridors felt until he was out in the sun again. The chilly air caused little puffs of air to appear with every breath, and Alexander loved it.

He celebrated his return by climbing the mountain once more. It was difficult, far more than even the first time, as he was now battling the elements instead of just his inexperience. Still, he loved the challenge and eagerly pushed himself up the mountain, relying solely on his magic, mind, and muscles to keep him alive.

Two days later, Alexander threw himself off again, once more trying to fly. He plummeted through the air like a stone, and he felt resigned to another crash. His magic seemed to agree, wrapping itself about him like a cocoon of warmth and safety. Combined with the cold air and the softness of the snow below, it was a surprisingly pleasant experience.

But he wasn't just there to learn to fly. Alexander hurried around his clearing, cleaning away the snow, refreshing the protections, and even building a sturdier nest for a family of rabbits he found living under his bed. The poor beasts were frightened out of their minds at the experience of being lifted and carried by magic but seemed to like their new hole well enough after Alexander charmed it to be warm and to have fresh water.

Magic was why he was here, why he was anywhere. As much as he hated the bigotry, Alexander could understand where Pure-bloods were coming from, having access to magic did make him feel like he was more. But he also knew that his feelings stemmed from his own accomplishments, while theirs stemmed from their birthrights. It was a shallow distinction, but he comforted himself that at least he wasn't unwilling to forgo his non-magical studies, always willing to learn more, unlike them.

And it was said willingness to learn that allowed him to name a magical technique that was not talked about in any of the books he read, despite the easily observable effects. Spell Compounding was what Alexander called it, and its implications were world breaking.

Any wizard could cast the same spell upon an object, refreshing it, for lack of a better way to describe it. But it was during the aftermath of Sue Li's curse experience that Alexander remembered that he had seen the result of Spell Compounding before, at the end of his fifth year. Professor McGonagall had been struck by multiple Stunning Spells simultaneously, which didn't just knock her out but put her in a coma.

So Alexander began to experiment. As he was against animal cruelty, the rabbits were spared the troubles of being test subjects. The trees around his home, were not, and quickly began to bear the results of explosions, transfigurations, and hexes. And the results were fascinating.

All of the spells had durations that at least doubled, usually tripling, depending on the spell in question. Transfigurations seemed to be heavily in favor of the doubling rule, while almost all Charms tripled their durations. Hexes, jinxes, and curses varied between the two, depending on the effect of the spell in question, which didn't surprise Alexander at all.

He spent an evening figuring out the number of wizards needed in Ancient Egypt to cast their protection charms, using Spell Compounding. He reluctantly concluded that the math didn't add up. Even with hundreds of thousands of wizards, there were too many sites in Ancient Egypt to be warded in a reasonable amount of time. He checked and even redid the math, but it still didn't come to a number that was consistent with the known population of the time.

So he put aside his notes and math and instead thought about the issue at hand. There were thousands of sites in Egypt, about a third discovered, while the rest were mere ruins. Every year there was a new ruin or two found, but eventually, that number would dwindle to none as the magic finally wore out.

So how would you hide these sites using magic for thousands of years? The short answer, you can't. Spells cast would be lucky to last a hundred years maximum, which was why the bulk of warding was done using runes, as they wore down much more slowly. But some wards still needed to be refreshed using spells periodically.

Which meant there were still magicals checking those sites and maintaining the wards there. But why would they allow sites to be discovered? That was their history, their wealth, being pillaged by modern Curse Breakers. Alexander had a theory on why, and while he hoped he was wrong, he doubted it very much.

He theorized that there was a dwindling population of surviving magical priests, or rather their descendants, who were maintaining the wards. Dwindling, because the sheer number of ruins discovered implies either a great deal of forgetfulness, negligence or the lack of numbers needed to maintain them. There was also the possibility that they were purposefully abandoning the sites, but with the wealth and magical knowledge left behind, Alexander doubted that.

There was one part of this that worried him. Ancient Egyptians were infamous with their obsession with death and how to overcome it with immortality. There was a genuine possibility that there was a group of ancient wizards living in the world. Alexander wasn't a racist by any means, but he was reasonably concerned about the possibility of a group of unknown wizards who had thousands of years to hone their craft. Who knew what tricks they had up their sleeves?

The soft sound of his tablet vibrating alerted Alexander that Daphne was calling. He chuckled, shaking his head at his paranoid thoughts. Even if they were alive, they'd most likely be senile; the human mind wasn't designed to live forever. He answered the mirror.

"Tracey's dead," Daphne said the moment her face appeared on his tablet. Tears were pouring down her face, and her eyes were puffy. "Death Eaters killed her, or that's what my father said. I don't know how; he seemed shaken. They made him accept His Mark! I don't know what to do, Alex, they want me to accept it after I finish Hogwarts!"

As the implications of that statement fell over him, Alexander frowned. One should never dismiss the possibility of wizards being utter bastards.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander was glad they had a year and a half to find a solution to prevent Daphne from being forced to take the Dark Mark. Well, that was incorrect. Alexander already had a solution; he just needed to convince Daphne of it. He hoped she wouldn't be stubborn about it.

"I'm game," she said, the moment he finished explaining his plan to hide her using wards before getting her out of the country. Australia was conveniently far away from England, and a pain for wizards to reach magically. "But, I want to bring Astoria with me."

He wasn't surprised by that request and immediately began to plan out the needed steps mentally. However, there was one critical need to know right now, piece of information that Daphne needed to give him.

"How close to the deadline should we be?" Alexander asked. Daphne bit her lip in thought.

"It's going to have to be right after Astoria finishes her O.W.L. exams next year. I'd like to get my N.E.W.T. exams done, but I can live without them. Astoria won't ever be respected as a witch if she doesn't have at least one O.W.L." Daphne said.

Alexander frowned. That was indeed cutting it close, especially if the Dark Lord ordered her to take it the moment she left Hogwarts. Still, they could work with it. "Can your sister keep a secret?" he asked. "Does she practice Occlumency?"

Daphne frowned, before reluctantly shaking her head no. "She won't mention the wandless magic to anyone, but she lacks the discipline to master Occlumency. Why, what are you thinking, Alex?"

"Then you can't tell her what we're planning. We can't risk anyone finding out, or using her to keep you here when the time comes. We need to get you both to safety, and if that means not telling her until the night you leave, so be it," Alexander explained. Daphne reluctantly nodded before smiling at him.

"Thank you for this, Alex. I owe you for so much, and here you are saving my life again."

He gave her a bitter smile. "You saved mine. After the death of my family, I," he trailed off. "Well, let's just say I wasn't thinking about graduation."

Daphne gave him a sad smile. "I wish I could hold you," she whispered.

Alexander gave her one back. "As do I."

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander's return to Hogwarts gave him an unpleasant mixture of emotions, but he endured them when he saw how relieved Daphne was to see him in the Great Hall. He made a point of walking through the crowd near her, brushing past her close enough that nobody could see how his hand touched hers, how he gripped it reassuringly, before parting.

Astoria looked pale and sad as she clung to Daphne's shadow. She didn't even seem to be aware of Alexander's brief encounter with her sister and walked mechanically towards Slytherin's table, where she sat and ate without ever speaking. Alexander hoped she would recover eventually.

There was little reason for Alexander to return to his seat, now that he had seen Daphne. He had a goal, a purpose today, and he knew he needed to complete it during the feast while everyone was busy. Walking down the stairs to the basement, he walked up to a portrait of a bowl of fruit and tickled the pear. It giggled, before swinging open to reveal the Hogwart's Kitchen.

It was full of activity as House-elves darted around, slicing and dicing, chopping, and stirring. A mountain of food was being made before Alexander's eyes, and they rotated in lazy spirals upwards into the ceiling, where they were no doubt refilling bowls, plates, and pitchers. It was actually one of the most magical sights Alexander had ever seen, and he took a moment to appreciate it.

"Young sir is is Mopsy's kitchen?" a squeaky voice asked from below. Alexander looked down and nearly did a double-take.

Mopsy had changed slightly, her skin becoming paler than the rest of the House-elves. Her mouth had shiny teeth, and a glint of mischief flickered in her eye.

"Mopsy," Alexander nodded politely. "I see you've changed. I take it you're going to become a poltergeist soon?" The life cycle of House-elves and poltergeist both fascinated and disgusted Alexander.

Mopsy nodded. "It's not soon, but it will be soon," she said in an entirely unhelpful manner. Still, Alexander made sure to nod as if it made perfect sense.

"Do you have a moment? I have a problem, and I think you might know the answer," he said.

Mopsy looked at the slavishly working House-elves around the room, seemingly taking delight in their energetic work, while she did nothing. She looked back at Alexander and nodded. "Mopsy can spare a moment, young sir."

"You know you can call me Alexander, right, Mopsy?"

Mopsy seemed surprised but then delighted by the offer. "Mopsy will call you Alex! We're friends now!" She seemed to take a savage delight in that statement, and the nearby House-elves whimpered in envy.

However, Alexander found himself flinching. Only Daphne and his family were permitted to call him Alex. Still, if Mopsy was able to help him, he could allow her this. "That's right, Mopsy and Alex friends now. I was hoping you knew of a place where I could get things without anybody knowing. Supplies and such for camping."

She frowned at him. "Not wizard store?"

"No, I can't let anyone know what I'm up to," Alexander said. The fewer people who knew he was gathering supplies for him, Daphne, and Astoria to flee the country, the better.

The tiny little elf seemed to think about it for a moment. "Alex can use the Come and Go Room! It has everything that's been lost in Hogwarts."  
It took Alexander a moment to realize Mopsy meant a Lost and Found. "That sounds perfect, where is it?"

As Mopsy told him, Alexander couldn't help but wonder if there were books in there too. He hoped so.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	16. Year 6 Part 3

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

To Alexander's immense disappointment, Mopsy's suggestion was a bust. No matter how he paced in front of the wall where Mopsy told him the room was located, a door failed to appear. Revealing spells likewise failed to reveal anything, and he stalked away angrily, scaring the first-year girl who had been standing there in mute horror the entire time.

Which meant he needed another way to get supplies. Alexander knew he required very little to get by, that his skill with magic and creative mind allowed him to overcome many of the hurdles living in the wilds created. But he couldn't help but feel like he let Daphne down and told her as much. To his surprise, she cuffed his head gently before pulling him into a kiss.

"We're witches, not damsels. I'd rather live it rough and be free than be trapped in a gilded cage."

Alexander couldn't help the swell of emotion that filled him at those words, and he pulled her close. One day they would be safe, she would be able to have anything she wanted, or at least the freedom to pursue what she wanted. He would guarantee it.

With a lighter heart and clearer head, he signed up with the other sixth year students for Apparation lessons. Why it was not merely called teleportation was beyond him, but Alexander wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Being able to move about with even greater freedom would only be a boon in the future, as the only public transportation in the Wizarding World was the Knight Bus. And the less said about that, the better, in Alexander's opinion.

Despite his skill with wandless magic, Alexander had trouble with Apparation. He could wrap himself in his magic without issue, but he would never succeed in moving anywhere. It was after several weeks of fruitless efforts that something happened, and it wasn't at all pleasant.

He splinched, leaving behind his thumbs. The shock of losing a digit paled to the crippling pain, his nerves screamed at him, telling him he was missing something vital. The professors immediately moved forward and reattached them, leaving behind a phantom pain of separation.

"Take a moment to rest, Mr. Dantes," Professor Flitwick advised. "And try to focus more clearly on moving to your destination next time."

Alexander gave the tiny professor a dark look but privately admitted that the first piece of advice seemed like a good idea. He moved off to the side of the Great Hall to contemplate the second.

He wanted to move, to pace, as he thought. But maybe that was the issue. Alexander had spent his summer and winter holidays repeatedly climbing a mountain. He trusted his body to move, had come to rely on it because if he didn't, he could have become seriously hurt. Even with his magic so willing and quick to leap to his aid, he still thought about movement like a non-magical.

Alexander focused intently on his former spot a few feet away. He stopped viewing it as a distance, and more of a step. He called upon his magic and lifted his foot...

And found himself setting it down at his original spot, a loud crack splitting the air.

"Well done!" the Ministry wizard said. "Join the others who've accomplished it and see if you can do it a few more times to make sure you have it down!"

As Alexander Apparated over to where the handful of sixth years were practicing, he contemplated the mystery that was magical transportation. Walking through fire, being squeezed through a tube, spinning like a top through portkeys. This could not possibly be the pinnacle of magical travel.

He Apparated, appearing behind Susan Bones, making her twitch and fall to the ground in a heap. Alexander barely noticed as he held out a hand to help her up, nor when she took it to pull herself up. He would refine it, he decided. He would make magical travel better. And Alexander knew just the mountain to do it at.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Sue Li had left Alexander alone after classes resumed. In the two classes they shared, Transfiguration and Charms, she sat as far away from him as possible, avoiding his gaze entirely. Alexander was happy for it, pleased that she hadn't decided to resume her unwanted attentions. He only wished he wasn't forbidden from the library still, as Madame Pince still seemed unwilling to forgive him for improving the protection spells on the books.

At least he had his own private library on his tablet. He was still refining it, finding the process endlessly fascinating. His latest attempt was trying to use a Protean Charm to change or update the runes on one tablet, by altering the runes on another. Alexander could do it with depowered runes, but anything with active magic on it explosively resisted the change. It was upsetting, but Alexander wasn't surprised it was proving difficult. Still, he relished the challenge.

What he needed was some sort of runic framework that would hold runes and spells, freezing the majority of them, while allowing him to tweak or change others. Such an idea was far too complex for any existing system of magic that Alexander had discovered thus far, but he didn't let that discourage him. If what he needed didn't exist, then he would figure out a way to do it himself. It would just take time.

Time was something he, unfortunately, had far too much of. Daphne was kept busy with protecting herself and Astoria in Slytherin, determined to remain neutral in a den of darkness. Their Pure-blood status meant little as they were not declared for the Dark Lord, despite their father's forced conscription. Thus they faced an ever-increasing pressure to conform to the whims of their parents, friends, and acquaintances. It was not pleasant for either of them.

The fact that Tracey Davis was no longer attending Hogwarts, or even among the living hadn't seemed to draw anyone's attention outside of Slytherin. Was wizarding society really this insular, even among itself? Or was there a nefarious intent upon keeping the information suppressed? As much as Alexander wished it were the latter, as it meant there was an actual foe, he feared it was the former.

Witches and wizards were obsessed with their blood, their lineage. Non-magicals were viewed as slightly better than animals, while Muggle-born were viewed with contempt. Half-bloods were only somewhat better off in the world but still disliked for their contaminated blood. Yet at the top stood the Pure-bloods, proud and sure of their superiority.

It annoyed Alexander. From his research, he knew that everyone had magic, just in varying amounts. More and more Muggle-born would be born in the future, eventually reaching a tipping point where those who could access magic would be the only ones to be born. It was the future of the human race.

But Pure-bloods didn't care. They wanted to lord the fact that they were descendants of the first magicals over everyone else, that it somehow made them better. Magic was almost a muscle, in that in order for it to grow more powerful, one had to use it. Very few Pure-bloods demonstrated magical power, as they relied almost solely on their family names and wealth.

Alexander's hands stilled, no longer tweaking the runes on his tablet. Perhaps that was it. Pure-bloods were magically weak. They had spent so many years, generations, living off the acclaim of their forefathers, that their magic atrophied. And then in came the Muggle-born. With their strong magic and foreign ideals. It does not matter that they're British, that they're magical, they had something the Pure-bloods covet.

So the Pure-bloods limited their growth. Give their own preferential treatment, even across political divides. It's almost impossible for a Muggle-born to become a department head in Magical Britain, let alone Minister of Magic in the modern era.

Alexander pushed his tablet away, his thoughts racing. Regardless of the why the what was still happening. Muggle-borns, and Half-bloods, were looked down on as second class citizens. Not all Pure-bloods were bad or even could be bad; they were merely participants in a system that favored them by chance. No, it wasn't the average Pure-blood that needed correcting; it was the ones who wanted to twist the world in their own crude image, a parody of real success.

Despite how simple it would make things, Alexander knew he couldn't just kill them. While it would be the most efficient way to remove the problem, it would create a vacuum that would quickly be filled with other witches and wizards who would lord over others. No, it would be better to make them leave him alone entirely, allow them to damn themselves while he remained safe.

Alexander began to play around with some ideas on how to force them to leave him alone. He could reveal he had the Philosopher's Stone, and demand they respect his accomplishment. But most likely they'd just kill him and take the stone for themselves. He was rather attached to living, so that one was out.

He could always use the stone to make gold and bribe them all into submission. It would involve a great deal of political work, something Alexander was sure Daphne would be happy to help him with. But this too, was reluctantly discarded as unfeasible. It would inevitably be questioned as to where the gold came from, and greedy opportunists would seek more.

There was always the option to do as the witches and wizards of ancient eras and to ward a cave or building to high Hell, and just wait for the danger to pass. Alexander could probably even get it to last for a few hundred years, more than long enough to ensure it survived the inevitable downfall of the wizards. He would just need to make it self-sufficient for himself, Daphne, and Astoria.

Alexander found himself getting excited by the idea, with the complexity of magic and logistics it offered. He pulled a blank piece of parchment toward him and began to plan.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Daphne wasn't convinced of the viability of his plan. And once she explained her reasoning, Alexander reluctantly agreed.

"It's impossible to hide that much magic," she said from her spot curled into his side. Alexander's many notes and rough sketches were in front of her. "Do you know how the Ministry of Magic keeps track of Portkeys?"

"No." Alexander frowned. He didn't like not knowing things.

"It's impossible to cover a country with a single ward. They're just too big. Small cities are possible, but only with massive ward stones and careful planning, and you can't change the layout of a city once it's created. It's why the Roman Empire lasted as long as it did, the cities were remarkable feats of warding," Daphne explained.

"So, how does the Ministry of Magic track Portkeys?"

Daphne sighed. "You can thank Potter's great-grandfather, Henry Potter."

Alexander blinked. "Harry Potter?

"No, Henry Potter. He petitioned the Wizengamot to help the muggles during their first World War, but the minister at the time decided wizards would not intervene. Henry Potter didn't agree with this, and began one of the most ambitious warding projects in history: He warded Great Britain."

"You just said it's impossible to ward a country," Alexander argued.

"It is. But Henry Potter didn't try to ward a country. He decided to ward city-sized chunks of it. There are thousands of ward stones that he and hundreds of other wizards created, placed, and empowered all over the country. It took them a decade, long past the war they were trying to help the muggles fight, but they finished it. It's why the Portkey Office is part of the Ministry of Magic," Daphne said.

"You see, the wards they put up weren't complex, they couldn't be as there weren't enough willing witches and wizards. So Henry Potter decided he'd take a simple detection ward, and boost it as much as possible so they could detect when something happened. But it didn't work out as they planned."

She sighed. "Potter's idiot great-grandfather choose a magical detection ward. It's simple, acts a bit like a Revealing Charm, but it lets the owner know when someone magical enters their property. It can be tied to a map even, which was why they choose it. But they tried to make it more powerful so it would cover more of an area."

Daphne suddenly threw out a hand angrily. "Well, it worked! Instead of hundreds of thousands of ward stones, they only had to do tens of thousands. But the wards didn't work out as planned. There is a room in the Ministry of Magic that is filled with constant pinging as millions of witches and wizards are setting off these wards. Apparently, the poor souls who work in that room have to wear earmuffs, like we had to for the mandrakes, so they aren't deafened. But it's that room why your plan won't work."

Alexander didn't have to think about it long. "Because the Ministry of Magic can see concentrations of wizards."

Daphne nodded. "And warded buildings. Any newly warded building larger than a small cottage gets an Auror investigation. Or any group of magicals greater than two dozen. Places like Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, and Diagon Alley are marked on the map and are generally ignored, but everywhere else is tracked by the Ministry."

"Sounds like Big Brother," Alexander muttered. Daphne raised an eyebrow, and Alexander was quick to explain the concept to her. She nodded thoughtfully.

"Sounds accurate. But your plan," Daphne gestured toward the large compound he had drawn, "would draw their attention the moment you began tossing up wards. Even if you didn't throw up the wards, they'd eventually get curious why a few magicals were going to the same spot for an extended amount of time."

Alexander groaned, but wrapped his arm around her thankfully. He kissed the top of her head. "Thank you for explaining. How well staffed is the Portkey Office?"

Daphne snuggled into his arms. "Not that well. Probably only around a dozen workers at a time. Why?"

"So, while the plan wouldn't work long term, we could slip through the cracks if we kept mobile and used limited magic," he said. Daphne nodded.  
"Probably. Now stop talking and kiss me."

Alexander smiled but obeyed. There was nothing else in the world he'd rather do.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander still wasn't allowed back in the library. Madame Pince had even thrown a hex at him the last time he tried, the broken remains of a book before her. He beat a hasty retreat, uneager to allow her more opportunities to land a hit, and decided to make his way out onto the grounds to read in the Spring air under a tree.

In truth, he enjoyed being surrounded by books. His tablets were fantastic works of magical engineering, true marvels that allowed the user to read thousands of books. But there was something about being surrounded by books, being able to smell or touch them, that made the reading experience so much more enjoyable. It was irreplaceable.

Still, it was a nice day out, he had a piece of enchanted stone that held thousands of books, and he had no classes today. Well, he shouldn't as it was the Apparation Test day for the sixth years, as well as a Hogsmeade weekend. Unfortunately, he didn't qualify for the testing, as he wasn't seventeen yet. Thus, a day of pleasant, uninterrupted reading, was ahead of him.

"Hey, Alex. Can we talk?" a nervous voice asked. Alexander sighed, and looked up, somehow unsurprised to see Hermione Granger standing there.

"Granger," he said in reply. She winced but tried to give him a warm smile.

"You can call me Hermione, Alex," she said.

"And you can call me Dantes, Granger," he said in reply, causing her to wince. She opened her mouth to speak, but he quickly cut across her. "What do you want?"

She took in a deep breath before exhaling it. "Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?"

Alexander couldn't help but feel baffled. "Why would I want to do that?"

Hermione blushed red, in shame or anger, Alexander couldn't tell. "Well, I thought we could go on a date after the Apparation Test. I know you can Apparate as well, and I think it'd be nice?" she quickly said, her words coming out in a rush.

"I'm not doing the Apparation Test. I'm still sixteen." Which felt odd to say, as Alexander felt much older.

"Oh," she trailed off. "Would you still like to go to Hogsmeade with me?"

Alexander narrowed his eyes at her. She seemed awfully pushy about this, which seemed odd considering how the last time they talked, she accused him of being dark. Not to mention the last time they agreed to go to Hogsmeade together, it was interrupted by her-

It clicked. Everything was right in a world where logic made sense. Alexander looked up, coldly at Hermione's nervous face. "No, I would not like to go to Hogsmeade with you," he said as clearly as possible.

This seemed to shock Hermione. "Why not?" she demanded.

"I refuse to be used as a tool against Ronald Weasley of all people," Alexander said. Alexander waited for her to open her mouth to protest before continuing. "Not again."

"I never used you!"

"You accepted going to Hogsmeade with me in our third year only to toss me aside the moment you had the slightest chance to be with him again. You used me to get his attention."

"That's not what happened! I made a mistake, and I'm sorry for that," she said, her eyes pleading.

Alexander rolled his eyes. "I have no interest in going on a date with someone like you. Besides, the last time we talked, you accused me of going dark," he said scornfully.

Hermione's face was red with anger now. "You're a jerk, Dantes. I can't believe you." She stomped her foot angrily.

He shrugged. "Believe whatever you want, just not here. Run along to Hogsmeade, Granger. Who knows, by the time you get there, you'll most likely be friends with Weasley again."

Hermione Granger left. Alexander knew what he just did was cruel but comforted himself with the knowledge that he was only treating her like she treated him. Or at least that's what he told himself to distract from the way his stomach churned unpleasantly.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

"Potter tried to kill Malfoy!"

For once, Alexander was paying attention to the whispers in the Great Hall, the gossip spreading through the student body like a wave. This wasn't the first time such rumors had started, as the students were prone to gossiping like hens and thus created all sorts of fantastical stories for their own amusement.

But Alexander had seen Professor Snape running through the halls of Hogwarts with a bloodied Draco Malfoy the previous day, the usually pale boy as white as a sheet.

A glance at the Gryffindor table confirmed that Harry Potter was still at Hogwarts. Alexander wasn't surprised by this; being the favored student of Headmaster Dumbledore must be useful for getting out of all sorts of trouble. Still, the rumors all agreed that Potter only received detention for the attack, which told Alexander it must not have been serious or that Dumbledore was sweeping it under the rug.

As he cut into his potatoes, Alexander contemplated what would happen if he were in Potter's place. If he, a lowly Muggle-born, had nearly murdered a Pure-blood in Hogwarts, he'd be thrown into Azkaban, if not outright executed, for his crime. He almost chuckled, with black humor, over the fact that he already had killed a number of Pure-bloods, in the form of Death Eaters and bullies, not that any court would accept that evidence.

His pocket warmed. A touch confirmed that Daphne was trying to call him on his stone tablet, and a glance at Slytherin table confirmed she wasn't in the Great Hall. Alexander quickly rose and left the crowded room, finding a semi-private spot in the Entrance Hall. He answered the tablet with a tap of a finger.  
Immediately Daphne's face filled the tablet. "Everything okay?" Alexander asked. She looked furious but uninjured, and he wondered what put her in this state.

"I'm fine. But I just found out why Tracey was targeted, do you remember Nott and Zabini? From the Yule Ball?" she asked.

"Vaguely. The gay wizards using you both as a cover?" Alexander asked for clarification.

Daphne nodded. "Zabini wasn't as gay as Nott thought. Apparently, he and Tracey had secret rendezvous, and Nott found out. He complained to his father about Tracey being an upstart Half-blood. He killed her," she said, tears falling from her eyes, "Nott's father killed her!"

Alexander let her cry for a moment, but he had questions that needed to be asked. "How did you find this out?"

"My father, he wrote to me," Daphne said, sniffing. "It was part of his initiation. He had to kill another Half-blood, but he watched Nott kill Tracey. I finally got him to admit it."

"Do you blame him?"

"Who, my father? I love him, but he was never a strong man, magically or morally. My mother controlled him, and once the Dark Lord set his sight on my family..." she trailed off.

"I will get you and your sister out of Hogwarts," Alexander promised. Daphne gave him a sad smile.

"Thank you, Alex. But if you can't get both of us out, if you can only get one of us, I want you to save Astoria."

"No."

Alexander did not hesitate to deny Daphne's request; he would never leave Daphne to those monsters. Daphne's face grew pleading.

"Please," she begged. "I need to know she is with someone who will keep her safe."

"And she will be, with you."

"But if I'm not there, I need to know you will!"

"Daphne, if there is ever a time someone needs to stay behind to save the others, it won't be you or Astoria chosen. It will be me," Alexander said, his voice thick with emotion but clear. He was firm on this, Daphne and Astoria would not be separated, one would not be sacrificed to save the other. Even if he had to die to do it.

Daphne seemed to understand and looked as though she wanted to protest. But both knew that Alexander would force the issue, his skill with magic greater, and thus he would have a better chance at survival than her. So instead, she gave him a small, thankful nod.

Indecision filled Daphne's face as she looked at Alexander. "What's wrong, Daphne?" Alexander asked.

"I love you, Alex," she whispered.

Was the floor moving? No, it was steady, but Alexander wasn't. As he looked into Daphne's tear-stained face, he knew, without a doubt, that she was being completely open and honest with him, that his willingness to fight and die for her family allowed her to say those words.

It was only a second, but it felt like years to Alexander. He thought of his parents, how they would laugh and dance and kiss one another. Their playful jokes with one another and how excited they were to see one another at the end of a long day. He thought of his brothers, full of mischief and life, and how even when they fought, they were still friends. And he thought of Daphne, the comfort and security she brought him just by being close, a soothing balm to his troubled soul. He knew exactly what he needed to say.

"I love you too, Daphne."

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: I hope you're enjoying the story!


	17. Year 6 Part 4

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Hogwarts was quiet. Exams were almost here, and the rest of the castle was either asleep or studying for them. Not Alexander though, he walked the halls of Hogwarts unable to sleep, some unseen tension keeping him from slumber.

The night was peaceful, even though his thoughts were not. Daphne's revelation over Tracey's fate had left twisted feelings in Alexander, chief among them guilt. He had met Lord Nott, Theodore Nott's father, back in his third year. Just before he saved Daphne, in fact. He had thought little of the man in years, only disgust at how he viewed Muggle-borns and werewolves. But now the specter of the past came forth once more to bite him in the ass. What cruel irony!

Tracey Davis had been friendly toward him, and an even better friend to Daphne, which put her before a majority of the witches and wizards Alexander had met thus far. Her death needed action, reprisal, but the question was how. It wasn't as if Death Eaters would storm Hogwarts, giving him a convenient chance to enact revenge.

"Death Eaters in the castle!" Peeves the Poltergeist shouted. He flew through the air above Alexander like a perverse messenger. His message echoed through the halls of Hogwarts.

It only took Alexander a moment to understand what was happening, that somehow Death Eaters must have gained access to Hogwarts. The how didn't matter as much as the what, and the what was that he had the opportunity to find a Death Eater to interrogate for information. He dashed down the halls.

He immediately came across spellfire, a pair of Death Eaters fighting Professor Flitwick. The tiny professor moved like a demon-possessed, his wand darting before him handily, blocking and turning aside the curses his two foes cast. Alexander drew his wand and thrust it forward violently.

Alexander's magic answered his demand. It leaped forward, picking up loose stones that had fallen from the walls and threw them violently at the two Death Eaters. They were unprepared for an assault on another front and suffered severely for it. In their brief moment of distraction, two red spells came from Professor Flitwick's wand and slammed into them, throwing them back and stunning them. The hall was silent.

"Mr. Dantes, what are you doing out?" Professor Flitwick asked, trying to catch his breath.

"I'm looking for Nott," Alexander replied, stepping forward and ripping off the two men's masks. Unfamiliar faces looked back at him. Neither was Lord Nott.

"Mr. Nott should be asleep in his dormitory, as should you!"

Alexander couldn't help the brittle, harsh laughter that came from his throat. He turned to give the Head of House Ravenclaw a dark look. "I haven't slept in Ravenclaw Tower for years. I know I shouldn't be surprised you didn't know, but somehow I am. Besides, I'm not looking for that Nott. I want his father."

Professor Flitwick seemed stunned that one of his students wasn't sleeping in the dormitory provided. "What do you want with Lord Nott?"

Alexander picked up the wands belonging to the Death Eaters and, after a moment's contemplation, snapped them. He ignored Professor Flitwick's gasp as he dropped the broken pieces on their chests. "He killed Tracey Davis."

"Ms. Davis withdrew from Hogwarts this past winter! She isn't dead!" Professor Flitwick protested. Alexander let out a mirthless laugh.

"I'd trust her best friend's opinion over yours any day of the week, professor," Alexander sneered. He began to walk away.

"Mr. Dantes, wait! You must let us handle this."

Alexander turned but didn't halt his pace. "Like you handled my first year? I am not going to turn my cheek to murderers and bullies, Flitwick. I've been at their mercy before, never again."

Professor Flitwick sputtered, but Alexander was already gone. Hogwarts was invaded, and the foolish professor was chiding his student instead of repelling invaders. Alexander moved forward carefully but with purpose. The hunt was on, and he had no time to waste.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

As Alexander descended the floors of Hogwarts, he came across more signs of battle. It seemed as though the Death Eaters had somehow entered at the top of the castle and fought their way downward, causing a great deal of damage. As Alexander neared the library, he could hear spellfire up ahead and readied himself.

Peeking around the corner, he found three Death Eaters fighting two unknown people. The duo fought well, watching one another's backs, but so did the Death Eaters. If nothing changed, then the pair would be overrun and most likely killed. Fortunately for them, Alexander was there.

As he strode around the corner, the tall, black man caught his eye. Alexander gave him a short nod and used magic to pick up debris. He sent it at the three Death Eaters, but something must have given him away as one managed to shield the storm. Alexander found himself dodging out of the way of a vicious looking orange curse.

Three on three, they dueled. Alexander lacked someone to watch his back like the duo across from him, but at least he only had to focus on one enemy. The man Alexander faced was slippery; he seemed fond of using the debris to block spells before banishing the remains at Alexander. Unfortunately for the Death Eater, the pair watching his back weren't as crafty.

The two unknowns worked well together, dominating first one Death Eater, then the other, sending the pair off to the side, stunned. A Banishing Charm to a rock smacked into the third Death Eater, concussing the man and putting him out of the fight. Wary of being attacked by the unknowns, Alexander cautiously approached.

"Ministry Aurors, identify yourself!" the tall, black man demanded. His partner, a stern-looking woman with dark hair, kept her wand trained on Alexander. Alexander found himself respecting that, a witch possessing common sense.

"Alexander Dantes, Ravenclaw sixth year. How did the Ministry get here so fast?" Alexander asked. It was highly convenient.

"Take care of this Shack, I'm going after the rest," the woman said. The man gave her a nod, and the witch strode past Alexander, apparently no longer deeming him a threat. Alexander eyed her but didn't make a move to stop her, although he kept his magic at the ready.

"We got lucky. We were told hours ago something might happen tonight, so we were stationed on the grounds in case of an attack. We weren't expecting an attack from the inside the castle though," the Auror named Shack explained. He glanced at the Death Eaters unconscious around them and pocketed their wands. "Kid, I need a favor. Can you watch over these three while I go stop the others? Time is of the essence."

"Of course," Alexander readily agreed. "Go save the day, Auror."

Shack walked past him, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed. "Thanks, kid, I won't forget this. Stay safe, and keep an eye out for more!"

Alexander nodded. At least Shack was marginally more intelligent than Flitwick. Still, Alexander waited until his footsteps faded before turning his attention to the three Death Eaters on the ground before him. He ripped off the mask of the closest one, one of the ones who was stunned but didn't recognize his face. But the second wizard, the one Alexander was fighting and who had been concussed, was truly rewarding.

After all, it wasn't every day you met your girlfriend's father.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Daphne had shown Alexander a picture of her family, and it was obvious that while she took after her mother's looks, Astoria took after their father. Still, the man's eyes were unfocused, and Alexander needed information. He tapped his wand sharply on his temple, casting a mild healing charm designed to lessen brain swelling.

It worked, causing the man's eyes to slowly steady. It did nothing to alleviate the pain from having a rock smashed into his head, but Alexander wasn't particularly inclined to care about his comfort at this time.

"I need information, Greengrass," Alexander said, the moment the man's eyes focused on him. Greengrass glared up at him.

"I'm not telling you anything!" Greengrass said. His hands were blindly feeling out for his wand.

"You will tell me where Nott is," Alexander said, unconcerned with the wandering hands. The Aurors had taken the wands of all three Death Eaters, but Alexander didn't feel like revealing that information.

Greengrass sneered. "You must be a Mudblood. He's a lord, boy, as am I! Pay us the proper respect we're due!"

"You're a Death Eater. Worse, you watched Tracey Davis, your daughter's best friend, be murdered. You deserve no respect," Alexander replied flatly. That seemed to take all the fight out of the downed man, causing him to deflate.

"You have no idea what you're talking about, boy," Greengrass said. "The Dark Lord, he's..."

"A Dark Lord. A being who wants slaughter, torture, and to dominate everyone through pain and misery. He brands you like cattle, orders you to fight his enemies, and you obey. You're a lord of nothing, Greengrass, not even your own fate," Alexander said harshly.

"Shut up, Mudblood!" Greengrass roared, surging to his feet. He raised his hands high to beat Alexander with his own two fists, but the young man was ready for it. A sharp jab of the wand in his hand sent the man flying back to crash in the wall.

"You wizards are pathetic without your wands," Alexander said, unconcerned by the sudden violence. He kneeled in front of the heavily breathing man, tapping his dead wand between thoughtful fingers. "I want information, and you will give it to me."

"I cannot betray the Dark Lord," Greengrass growled. Alexander smiled at that.

"But you can betray each other. Tell me where Nott is, and I'll let you live."

"Ha! You don't have it in you, boy."

Alexander raised one, unimpressed eyebrow. Without taking his eyes off Greengrass, he jabbed his wand at the unmasked Death Eater, sending a hissing bolt of orange light into his chest. It immediately began to melt, as if acid had been poured on it, and woke the man. He twitched and rolled frantically, but Alexander did not cast the counter spell, allowing him to die after a few, pain-filled moments.

"I've killed Death Eaters before. I've killed bullies. It's how I met your daughter, Daphne, in fact," Alexander said, slowly rising to pace.

"What?" Greengrass whispered, confused at the sudden shift of topics.

Alexander nodded. "Oh, yes! It was at the end of our third year. Daphne had been cornered in Hogsmeade by Argo Gibbon, Kevin Rowle, and Albert Tripe. The three boys had designs on her, you see. But they weren't expecting me to come along." He prodded the third Death Eater with his foot, double-checking that he was still unconscious. Satisfied, he continued.

"You know, it was just a few minutes prior that I met Lord Nott. He was searching for a Muggle-born werewolf; I hope the girl escaped him. But I'm getting sidetracked, your daughter is what matters, as I'm sure you'll agree," Alexander said, leaning against the wall across the hall from the panting Death Eater.

"They didn't manage to do much before I got to them—a Silencing Charm, and pulling off her robes but not the rest. But you know, I don't like bullies. Never have. So I might have been a little extreme with how I solved the situation. They're Pure-bloods after all, and who would believe a Mudblood," Alexander chuckled darkly, "over them? Even if their victim was another Pure-blood."

"No, I knew if I wanted justice, I'd have to do it myself. Do you remember what happened at Hogwarts three years ago?" Alexander asked.

"No," Greengrass replied, his voice small and horrified.

"The Dementors don't ring a bell?" Alexander smiled at the look of alarm that caused. "Yes, I fed them to the Dementors. Your daughter has a will power that you lack. She stood beside me and watched as those three beasts were sucked soulless. She's a magnificent witch."

"Yes, she is," Greengrass agreed, his voice soft.

Alexander waited patiently for the man to say something, anything at all, but the moments passed them by. He considered killing the still unconscious Death Eater, rationalizing it was a needless risk, but just as he stepped toward him, Greengrass spoke.

"Don't," he ordered.

"Why?" Alexander's answer was sharp and to the point.

"Because he's the one you're looking for, that's Nott."

Alexander frowned but ripped off the last Death Eater's mask. Greengrass spoke the truth. There lay Lord Nott, unconscious, and within Alexander's reach.

He twirled his wand thoughtfully but turned his attention back to Greengrass. Just one more loose end.

"I suppose you'll kill me now," Greengrass said.

"Will you be able to keep a secret from the Dark Lord?" Alexander asked, already sure of the answer.

"No, he has a way of knowing you're hiding something, and he isn't kind when he rips it out," Greengrass said, shuddering unpleasantly. "One cannot even run from him, the marks betray us, and the punishment is even worse."

Alexander considered that carefully. "Will he punish Daphne and Astoria if you die here tonight?"

Greengrass was silent for a long time as he contemplated that. The sounds of magical battle renewed, and there was a long, drawn-out scream of rage. Neither man moved from their spot.

"No. My wife's a fervent supporter, and she'll drain our coffers to support that monster. Daphne and Astoria will be left alone, although Daphne will be pressured to take the Dark Lord's mark upon graduation." Greengrass rubbed his arm as if it were unclean.

Alexander nodded; that was what he expected. "Any final requests?" he asked. The sounds of battle intensified.

Lord Greengrass staggered to his feet so he could stare Alexander in the eye. "No, nothing I'd ask of a Mudblood anyway."

"Ah, a final insult," Alexander shrugged, putting his wand away. "I suppose I'll return the favor."

Lord Greengrass barely had the time to look confused before Alexander's magic slammed into him, holding him against the wall. Alexander waited until horrified comprehension filled Lord Greengrass's face before casting a violent red spell from his hand. It slashed through Lord Greengrass's chest, cutting him to the bone, and slashing the stone on either side of him. He fell to the floor in a bloody heap.

Alexander kneeled by the dying man and held his head up by the hair so he could look into horrified eyes. Lord Greengrass opened and closed his mouth, trying to speak, but only blood came up. As the sounds of battle faded, so too did the light in his eyes, and the head Alexander held became dead weight. He let it fall.

Standing over the body of his father's girlfriend, Alexander felt nothing. These men were a danger to the world, by virtue of their mark alone. They were a symbol of hate, just as cruel as the one that marred their arms, and they couldn't be allowed to live. He moved toward the fallen Lord Nott and contemplated waking him up before he killed him, letting him know why he had to die. But the moment passed, and Alexander levitated a large piece of broken statue over the man's head. He let it fall.

Alexander considered leaving his victims there, to be discovered once all was said and done. But he let the thought pass and brought his magic to bear. With a sweep up his hand later, the three bodies were rapidly decomposed, magic accelerating the natural world's laws. The bodies became filth, the filth became muck, the muck became dirt, and the dirt became dust. Another wave of his hand banished the dust far away, never to be seen by human eyes.  
And as he walked away, Alexander embraced the feeling of satisfaction that came from avenging Tracey's death.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Albus Dumbledore was dead. Of all the things Alexander expected to discover hours later, that was not one of them. Somber students whispered among each other, speaking of Death Eaters, Dumbledore, and death. More than a few noted the absence of Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy, and the rumors grew wilder.

The children of Hogwarts were scared, Alexander decided. They had discovered their school was no longer a safe haven, unassailable from enemies, a place of learning. The halls would forever be tainted, their memories bitter from what had happened here. And it was only the beginning.

Alexander did not doubt that the Muggle-born and Half-blood students were in danger. He was in danger, but he had never been in a war. Would there be raids? Armies lining up and trading spells? Would there be disappearances during the night and random searches throughout the day? He just didn't know.

But he knew he had to prepare. He had to hide food and water, plot out escape routes, and above all, fight. He knew his foes, but he didn't know where they were hiding. He would search for them, attack them in the places they felt secure, killing them, and making their comrades tremble in fear.

The who, what, and how were so simple. But why was Alexander so sure of this, so confident that he would have to fight? Experience.

Ever since he entered the wizarding world, he was viewed as an invader. He was attacked, harassed, tortured. His family was murdered before him, slaughtered like animals, and he was left for dead. He didn't know it, but the bullies of his youth were training him for his future, and he wasn't going to fail.

A swish of blonde hair caught Alexander's eye. He followed it around a corner, seeing it vanish into his private rooms. He entered and was unsurprised to see Daphne Greengrass sitting there, her arms wrapped around herself and trembling slightly. The moment her eyes fell upon Alexander, she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him tightly. He slowly returned the embrace.

He held her silently as tears fell from her eyes. His heart ached at what he was about to do, but he knew he had to. Proper relationships had no secrets.  
"Daphne, we need to talk," he said gently, rubbing her back. She nodded into his jaw. "You need to look at me."

That got Daphne to pull back, her eyes alert with concern and fear. "What's wrong?"

"Something happened, and you need to know," Alexander said. So he told her, of fighting the Death Eaters, finding her father, and their conversation. And after a brief moment of hesitation, he told her how her father died, and why.

"He wouldn't have been able to hide me besting them from the Dark Lord. The Death Eaters would have targeted me for defeating Pure-bloods, so I-"

"Murdered my father to protect yourself," Daphne finished. Her tone was sharp, and her whole body shook with suppressed emotion. Hard feelings between family aside, Alexander still killed her father.

"Yes," Alexander said, knowing that denial would make it worse. "I am sorry, Daphne."

She slapped him, as hard as she could, across his face. Alexander barely turned back when her other hand slapped his other cheek. Despite how it stung, Alexander did not back away or cry out; he knew he deserved this and so much more.

"He chose this," Alexander tried to say, but Daphne raised her hand to cut him off.

"Stop. No. You chose this. You chose to kill him! You killed my father, Dantes! Don't you dare say he chose this!"

"He did. We both did. We both knew why it had to be done. I'm not saying I didn't, but your father knew what he was doing. In the end, he chose to die!"

Daphne began to back away, shaking her head in refusal. "I don't believe you."

"Daphne, please." Alexander stepped toward her.

"No! Stay away from me! I don't ever want to see you again!" Daphne shouted, running out of the door. It slammed with a shut behind her.

Alexander felt as though a hole had been ripped through his chest, filled with the cold dread of a Dementor. He wanted to chase after Daphne, but his legs refused to move. Alexander felt lost, adrift in a storm, with a terrible looming specter over him. He felt even worst than the night his family died.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: End of Year Six.

I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	18. Year 7 Part 1

Disclaimer: The World of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Warning: This story is violent and not for young audiences. Reader discretion is advised.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander Dantes walked through King's Cross Station, London, with great purpose. The non-magicals scurried about their business, trying to evade the chill that had descended upon the city, despite it being the middle of summer. They were completely unaware that the young man walking next to them was magical or that he, like hundreds of other students on the platform that day, were on their way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

But there were a number of differences between him and the other students, things that set him apart. The scars that crisscrossed his face were the most obvious, the long healed wounds looking as though someone had sliced violently into his flesh, tearing at the skin. They had been healed with stitches, but Alexander had refused all treatments offering to reduce the scarring. He wanted to keep the reminder of his family's murder until the day he died.

The next difference was less obvious, but even more significant. He carried no wand. As far as the rest of the wizarding world was concerned, you needed a focus of some sort to cast magic, and each culture had its own interpretation of what that could mean. But Alexander had discovered true magic, wandless magic, and had instead hidden his wand, long broken and mended, with the rest of his belongings in a safe place.

But chief among the differences was the fact that Alexander wasn't there to go to school at all, but to remove Muggle-born and Half-blood students from the danger they were in. With the death of Albus Dumbledore at the end of his sixth year, the school would not be safe for much longer, and collecting the students off the train would be far easier to do than having to do it at Hogwarts.

Alexander had spent his summer preparing for it. Careful trial and error allowed him to figure out the limitations of Portkeys, such as how many people they could safely move, or figuring out why they could move people but not inanimate objects. It had to do with the source of magic, he found, which could only be drawn from living creatures. Still, he had a dozen thin ropes tied around his waist like a belt, specifically enchanted to help get the students off the Hogwarts Express.

Each Portkey led to a different location, safe houses that he had prepared all over London. The destinations were far enough apart that a cluster of magicals appearing shouldn't draw anyone's eye, not in a city with tens of thousands of wizards, and all were warded to the best of Alexander's ability. He'd help them reconnect with their families and then, ideally, move them all out of the country.

He knew many would not want to leave, would not believe the danger they were in, but Alexander had spent the past two months preparing himself emotionally for having to talk about how his family died. Each location had a pensieve, and he was prepared to share with them the memories of how his family died, as well as snippets of the Death Eaters invading Hogwarts at the end of last year. It was necessary.

He knew it was a ridiculous amount of effort to go through, but Alexander also knew that if he could spare one family the pain of being tortured and murdered, or worse, then he'd do it. He had a choice, and he was making the one that he could live with.

Alexander stood in front of the entrance to the platform. On the other side of this barrier would be a scarlet-colored train, gleaming in all its glory. The platform would be filled with families sharing their goodbyes, students greeting one another after months apart, owls and cats and toads. The whistle would blow in five minutes, signaling the departure of the train to Hogwarts, and everyone would board in a frenzied mass.

He took in a deep breath and let it out a moment later. He strode through the disguised barrier as if it were made of water; sounds become muted as darkness enveloped him before the moment passed, and it all returned to him at once. And Alexander was stunned by what he saw.

The Hogwarts Express was scarlet no more. Its crimson exterior was now green, the piping and trim colored silver as if it were a mechanical snake laid out for the world to see. Even the smoke it billowed seemed to have changed color, becoming darker and lessening the visibility on the platform, but not enough to hide it completely.

Alexander had been partially correct on what he expected to see on the platform that day. Off to the side, there was a small crowd of families and students, calmly exchanging goodbyes and well-wishes with one another. But it was the larger crowd, nearly three times the size of the other, that made Alexander's heartbeat stutter.

Students that Alexander knew to be Half-blood or Muggleborn stood there, clumped together uneasily with their families as witches and wizards in red robes, Aurors, stood guard around them. One by one, they were pulled away and questioned at wand point before they'd be allowed onto the Hogwarts Express or escorted out of sight.

"Oi, why you standing around like a tosser?" a man behind him asked. Alexander turned to see an unkempt wizard glaring at him. "Can't be a Pure-blood with a face like that, so get in line!"

Alexander slowly turned back to the crowd and began to walk slowly forward. Everything seemed wrong about this situation. Why was everyone so calm, so quiet? There were a number of fearful whispers, but nobody seemed panicked at being boxed in by what Alexander knew to be Aurors. Alexander slowed to a stop several feet away from the group of Half-bloods and Muggle-borns and their families.

His gaze drifted over to what he recognized as the Pure-bloods of Hogwarts. Their faces all blended together; smug, stuck up, but Alexander was looking for one face in particular. It wasn't until movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, that he saw her.

Daphne Greengrass was standing in a window of the Hogwarts Express, looking at Alexander. He had tried talking to her the entire summer through the enchanted tablets he had created, but she had never responded. He had even attempted to send her an owl, but no answer ever returned. Alexander was heartbroken but didn't hold it against her. He had killed her father, after all.

Still, looking at her now, alive and healthy and beautiful, made his heart skip a beat. She made his whole experience at Hogwarts worth it, and he regretted not telling her that. It took Alexander a moment to realize her mouth was moving, miming words.

"Go," Daphne's mouth said. "Run!"

Alexander's trust in Daphne was still so strong that he found himself moving further away from the group he was now a part of, heading to the line of red-robed Aurors. A whispered conversation reached his ears.

"Sarah, you need to be good this year. Don't do anything to draw Headmaster Snape's attention to you, okay?" a man whispered to his daughter. She wore Hufflepuff robes and couldn't be older than twelve.

"Yes, papa," Sarah said, hugging her father one last time before walking to the Hogwarts Express. She was allowed to pass the line.

Alexander had reached the Aurors. "Excuse me, I need to fetch my trunk from the car," Alexander said. The two men glared at him.

"You shouldn't have forgotten it. Get back in line!" one of them ordered.

"But I need it for class."

"Not my problem, have your family owl it to you."

"My family is dead, and besides, they're non-magical. They couldn't owl it to me anyway," Alexander said. Instantly he knew he made a mistake as the two men focused much more intently on him, raising their wands in a threatening manner.

"Well, that changes things, doesn't it? You're coming with us," the Auror ordered. Alexander considered that for less than a heartbeat.

"No."

Alexander stepped closer, slamming his open hand into the Auror's throat, causing him to choke. His companion was a bit quicker on the uptake, silently casting an oddly vicious pink spell into the air above them. There was no second spell as Alexander slammed into him, sending them both to the ground and drawing the rest of the platform's attention.

Knowing he had only a second, Alexander tried to twist, Apparating from the ground. He discovered what the pink spell was a moment later as he bounced off an Apparation Ward, feeling as though someone had knocked the air from him. He rolled, trying to get to his feet when a Bludgeoning Spell hit him from the side, throwing him through the air.

The last thing he saw before he impacted the wall was Daphne's horrified face.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

"Hem, hem."

Alexander groaned as awareness, returned to him painfully. He was bound, upright, to a chair with metal chains that dug painfully into his body. However, they were not nearly as unpleasant as the sound that hounded his ears.

"Hem, hem."

"I heard you, Umbridge," he growled. "Just give me a minute."

"Crucio."

Vicious pain dug into Alexander's nerves as the curse hit him. Each beat of his heart sent fresh waves of pain, compounding off itself. And then it stopped. Alexander finally managed to open his eyes to see his surroundings, finding himself in a windowless courtroom with two stonefaced Aurors standing behind him. The pink monstrosity sat on a bench, smiling down at him, her wand twirling in her fingers.

"You will address me as Madame Umbridge, Mr. Dantes. I haven't forgotten you from my time at Hogwarts. Such a filthy, lying boy."

Despite the pain it caused him, Alexander rolled his eyes. "Madame Umbridge. I had heard you ran afoul a centaur herd. Shame that wasn't true."

Madame Umbridge's race twisted unpleasantly, and she jabbed her wand at Alexander once more. The pain came sharp and quick but lacked the earlier bite, as Umbridge lacked the focus to maintain the spell. It fizzled out but still left Alexander gasping for breath.

"The trial has now begun. Mr. Dantes, how did you steal your magic?" Madame Umbridge asked, her voice sickly sweet. Alexander's gaze was slightly unfocused, but he could see how tight her face was.

"You can't steal magic, it's integral to life," Alexander said. It was the truth; every living being had magic in it to some degree, it's what accounted for the soul.

Madame Umbridge tutted. "We both know that's not true, Mr. Dantes. You stole your magic. Now tell the truth."

Alexander was prepared, as much as anybody could be, for the curse. It still hurt, but Alexander ground his teeth together to prevent himself from crying out. It stopped a heartbeat later.

"The truth," Alexander rasped, "is that you're a shit witch and an idiot Pure-blood. Even a child could tell you that you can't steal magic, but then again, even a child is smarter than you."

"You will cease your insults!" Madame Umbridge warned. "I will not tolerate your disrespect!"

"No, you'll just tolerate stupidity, hypocrisy, and ineptitude. Guess that explains why you don't like me anyway." Was that a trick of the ear, or did one of the Aurors just snort?

"Mr. Dantes! I had expected better of you after your lessons with Ms. Greengrass!"

Alexander fell silent at that, for reasons that Umbridge could not possibly understand. Daphne Greengrass was tied to a complicated mess of thoughts and feelings within him, tangled upon one another. His many attempts with speaking with her this summer had fallen through, not that he could blame her after he killed her father. Still, to have her brought up by Umbridge of all people was extremely unpleasant.

Madame Umbridge took his silence for contrition. "Now, since the defendant is unwilling to cooperate with this court, and the Ministry of Magic, I'll have to pass judgement." She took a moment to look off fondly into the distance, at what Alexander knew not. "Guilty."

"Hooray," Alexander deadpanned. Umbridge gave him a dirty look.

"I sentence you to Azkaban! For a term of, well, let's just say you won't have to worry about that," Umbridge finished with a sweet smile. The chains fell away from Alexander's body, and the two Aurors immediately laid hands upon him. They dragged Alexander out the door and away from Umbridge's hideously smiling face.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: And here it is, Year Seven, finally! If it wasn't obvious, Alexander isn't going to Hogwarts, which means I have a much greater range of creative direction. Canon events will still be happening of course, for example, from what I can tell Harry, Hermione, and Ron break into the Ministry of Magic on the second of September. Which means Alexander was one of the unlucky Muggle-borns who was caught and arrested prior to that.

No, Alexander won't be getting revenge on Umbridge during this story. Apparently she survives the war to be imprisoned in Azkaban for the rest of her life.

Alexander and Daphne's relationship: It's complicated. It's not permanently broken, but you'll see soon by what I mean. You don't just kill someone's father and get forgiven without reason, after all. To be honest, I really needed them broken up so Alexander wouldn't keep trying to go to Hogwarts to keep her safe there. He has a higher purpose.

Continuing the story past Year Seven/crossovers: Alexander's story will not end with this book. I have much planned for him. As for crossovers, there are a few I'm playing with, but MCU will not be one. It lacks an appropriate opposing force for Alexander in my opinion. That being said, I might be open to others pursuing their own crossovers using Alexander, but I would request you hold off on writing them for a while. You'll understand why, eventually.

Fair warning: Year Seven is much more violent than the rest of Alexander's journey thus far. Don't read if you're squeamish.

I hope you all enjoy the story, and thank you to everyone who has been reading since Year One.


	19. Year 7 Part 2

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander's journey wasn't long. The Aurors had barely dragged him from the courtroom when the trio twisted, Apparating. Alexander was slammed onto his knees by the journey, the cold and sharp stones underneath unforgiving. A biting cold overcame him even though it was the end of summer. He looked up.

Although he had never been there before, Alexander recognized Azkaban prison. Once belonging to Ekrizdis, a mad wizard who charmed non-magicals to the island to experiment and murder, it now belonged to the Ministry of Magic and functioned as a prison. But even more infamous than it's creator were its wardens, the Dementors.

A few could be seen floating around aimlessly as if they hadn't a care in the world. Alexander was slightly bothered by how few he saw; there had been hundreds surrounding Hogwarts in his third year, here there were only a few dozen. Were they dead? Or simply out hunting?

Regardless of his thoughts, the two Aurors dragged Alexander to the closest Dementor, who began to float closer. They dropped Alexander to the ground before taking hurried steps back as if it would help them escape the pervasive chill the wraith cast.

"_...FFFfffooooooooooooddddd..._?" a ghostly whisper asked, carried by the wind. Alexander thought it almost sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

"Yeah, eat up, ya bastard," one of the Aurors muttered. Alexander tensed, but he needn't have bothered as the Dementor just floated there, ten meters away, staring at them. When the Aurors began to mutter angrily, Alexander realized the Dementor was staring at him.

Unbidden, the memory of his third year arose in his mind, how at the end of it he threw his magic at a Dementor and called it to him. Was this the same one? He knew how to find out.

Alexander needed no gestures this time. He had grown since his third year. His magic moved from his body and jumped invisibly through the air to the Dementor, causing it to twitch when it hit. He opened his mouth.

"It's dinner time."

The Dementor swooped forward, almost graceful, and passed Alexander by a hairsbreadth. It felt as though ice filled his veins, clawing at his heart, but his magic protected him, warming him. He rose and turned on shaky legs.

Both Aurors were on the ground. One was rigid, the Dementor administrating its infamous Kiss, while the other feebly shot white mist at it. The Dementor dropped its meal before turning to the second Auror, brushing aside the weak mist and claiming its prize. Alexander forced himself to watch as the second man lost his soul.

As horrifying as it is, Dementors are speedy eaters. It dropped the Auror, who lay still and unmoving, and turned to Alexander. "._...MMMMooooorrrrreeeeee..._?" it asked.

Alexander frowned as he looked at it. Twice he's managed to command the Dementor, although he didn't doubt the prospect of a meal aided him in his continued well being. Which was why his next action was easy.

"Is there anyone else in the prison?" Alexander asked, pointing a hand to Azkaban. The Dementor turned to look at it for a moment before turning back, its putrid breath reaching him from a distance.

"_...NNNNooooo ppprrriiisssooonnneeerrrsss..._" it hissed. Was that sadness in its voice, or was Alexander assigning it human emotions where there were none?

"But are there guards?" Alexander asked. That seemed to excite the Dementor.

"_...MMMaaaannnnyyyy..._" It seemed almost gleeful.

Alexander nodded. "Go feast."

It didn't wait a moment longer, turning and racing toward the prison. Somehow the other Dementors knew of Alexander's order as they turned as one and flew toward the monolith, diving through the many windows. Screams soon followed.

As for Alexander, well, he wasn't going to wait around to watch. The Ministry, in their infinite wisdom, hadn't searched him for anything beyond a wand when they arrested him, leaving him his rope belt of portkeys. Maybe they thought it was a fashion statement, or perhaps they were all idiots. Regardless, it worked in Alexander's favor as he touched one rope and spoke the password.

The last thing he saw was hellish flames flickering in one of Azkaban's doorways.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander walked through Diagon Alley, glaring at anyone who made eye contact. It was a risk for him to be here, even disguised under layered Glamour Charms, but he needed information. So, despite his aching body, he ventured into the wizarding world.

The alley was hushed, washed of colors, and dark despite the high noon sun. The few shoppers scurried about on their business, clutching their packages fearfully, and avoiding the gaze of the stone-faced Aurors walking down the street. These were not the usual rank and file, each held their wands threateningly and leered at the shoppers. Alexander avoided them.

Dropping a few coins into a boy's hand, Alexander took the proffered newspaper and walked away. He'd read it when he got back to his safe house as wasn't foolish enough to pursue it here, under the watchful gaze of so many hard witches and wizards.

Which didn't mean Alexander escaped the attention of the Aurors. His Glamour Charm drew attention, and unfortunately, it wasn't the good kind. A red-robed figure blocked his path with their wand.

"What's your business in the alley?" the Auror demanded. Alexander brandished the newspaper.

"Paper," he grunted. Alexander never thought he'd say it but thank Merlin for the Cruciatus for making his voice rougher.

The Auror wrinkled his nose. "You have something against owls, then?"

"Had a bad experience with one. It ate my bacon," Alexander explained. The Auror nodded as if that made sense.

"You a Mudblood?" The Auror asked. It was said so casually, so matter of factly that Alexander wondered. He wondered how easily the government had fallen, how easily the Aurors, the law enforcement, folded. Was it simply innate in wizards? To fall in line with the Pure-blood dogma?

Alexander needed to answer the man's question before he became suspicious. Fortunately, he knew how to deal with idiot Pure-bloods. He sneered. "I'm a Smith, boy. Show some respect."

Alexander's skin was of a middle-aged male who did share some passing resemblance to the Smith he went to Hogwarts with. Namely, he looked like a prick.

There was also something satisfying about calling a man older than yourself boy, especially when said man was an Auror who shifted uncomfortably at the rebuke. The Auror gave an awkward bow.

"Of course, sir. Sorry, sir. On your way."

Alexander said nothing as he limped unmolested to the Apparation Point. The other Aurors proved to have more sense than their fellow, ignoring his presence as they kept watch over the alley. Alexander Apparated away in a twisting blur of motion.

His feet hit hardwood a moment later, causing him to stagger before he could restore his balance. He was in a small warehouse, six bunk beds pushed against one wall, while a small kitchen was across from it. In the center of the room was a table and chairs that he gratefully collapsed into.

Alexander's body shook as the Glamours faded, dispelled by his wandless magic. A careless wave of his hand summoned an unopened bottle of water from the pantry that he immediately applied to his forehead. With his free hand, he spread out the newspaper and began to read.

Snape as Headmaster, the abolishment of muggle studies, Death Eaters pardoned for past crimes, the hunt for Potter, was all laid bare. But what made Alexander's blood burn was an article half-way through the paper.

It talked of the burning of Azkaban, Fiendfyre burning so fiercely that the Ministry wizards weren't sure if the prison was still stable. Instead, a new site was created just that morning, the Mudblood Relocation Camp, to house their undesirables. While it wasn't confirmed if the Dementors wouldn't be stationed there, as most were patrolling the country for Undesirables, the Aurors had reached out to various private citizens for wards.

Alexander crumpled the paper angrily in his hands and threw it away. He didn't regret his part in Azkaban's destruction, not one bit. It was a foul beacon, one known all over the world, and generally filled with the worst sorts of criminals. Alexander knew now that since the Ministry was now in the Dark Lord's forces, it would be used for far worse purposes.

Still, Alexander hadn't expected such a quick response from the Ministry on a new prison. Perhaps it was already in the works when Alexander was arrested, he didn't know. But it did mean that he would have to find where it was located.

For Alexander's desires still hadn't changed; he still wanted to save as many Muggle-born and non-magicals as he could. And perhaps, two more.

With a reluctant sigh, Alexander summoned his tablet to him and held it before him. "Daphne Greengrass," he intoned.

The surface swirled before clearing.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: Some of you seem to be forgetting that Alexander is only 17 years old, or maybe you've read too many stories where the main character is an OP psychopath. He makes mistakes, he's not all knowing, and he's not going to obsess over every single slight. Years of magical training do mean something in this story, Alexander could kill as many as he has because they were surprised, or because he didn't attack them directly/used his surroundings. Most wizards train for an exchange of spells, not a banister being pulled through their chest.

Alexander was outnumbered twenty to one on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. He might have been able to kill three, maybe four Aurors before they would cut him down. The scene was meant to show how Alexander still thinks like a non-magical, by trying to walk out, instead of Apparating out like a wizard would. To be honest, the scene barely matters. I just wanted a semi-reasonable reason for Alexander being arrested so I could explore a possibility of why Azkaban wasn't used to house Muggle-borns. That I could also showcase Umbridge being her usual nasty self was only icing on the cake considering she didn't really do much to him in Year Five.

Dementor Army: Fun idea, but not canon compliant. They're not out of the story yet though.

Why no wizard took away his Portkey: If it isn't obvious by now, Pure-bloods in this story (and canon and fanon), are arrogant. Why would a mere Mudblood have portkeys? They also had him at "wand point", and thus deemed him not a threat. This does mean that Alexander could have theoretically left at any time, but most people, when they have that knowledge, are pretty relaxed about being taken places. Plus he was just cursed repeatedly by Umbridge, he needed a bit to catch his breath, so to speak.

Alexander is still very much driven by revenge. But at this moment, he's intelligent enough to realize he needs to focus on saving other people, before he can settle the score. Eventually he will be able to refocus on his desires and make them a reality, but it will not be during canon. There's a war going on, for crying out loud.

I hope you're all enjoying the story.


	20. Year 7 Part 3

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

_He's alive_, Daphne thought, relief spreading through her quicker than a Cheering Charm. A heavy weight in her belly that she didn't know she carried vanished. For the last two days, she had kept her precious tablet, the gift Alexander had given her over a year ago, close to her in the hopes he would somehow call. And now he did.

Alexander looked exhausted as if he hadn't slept for the last few days. Every few seconds, a tremor would wrack his frame, but he didn't seem to notice it. But it was his eyes, unfriendly to so many, looking so relieved to see her that brought Daphne the greatest comfort. He wasn't angry with her.

"It's good to see you, Daphne," Alexander said after a long moment of silence passed them by. Daphne almost flinched.

"Alex, I'm sorry," she whispered, mindful of the other Slytherins in her dorm room. Even with Silencing Charms, she wasn't chancing being overheard. "I wish I could have helped you."

Alexander shook his head. "You had to watch out for your sister. Having to rescue you while escaping prison myself would have been one trouble too many. Especially after that bitch Umbridge's Crucios," he muttered.

Daphne blanched. "Are you alright? Do you need a healer?"

"Would a healer actually see a Mudblood right now?" was Alexander's cutting reply. Daphne flinched.

"I'm sorry," she said. Alexander barely twitched. "I understand why you had to kill my father now. I met him, you know, the Dark Lord. It was horrifying."

Alexander stared at her expectantly, patiently waiting for her to say more. Daphne wondered what was going through his terrifyingly brilliant mind, what he thought of her at that moment, if he believed her.

Swallowing down the bitterness of that thought, she continued. "He can look at you and just know things. It's not Legimincy, my Occlumency would have felt an attack, but it's like all your secrets are laid bare. On the first day of summer holidays, I was brought before him, and he asked me if I was worthy of taking his mark."

Daphne shuddered. "Before I even opened my mouth, he knew I would lie. He asked me why I would lie to him, was I not there to see the restoration of Pure-blood supremacy? Would things not get better with Pure-bloods in their proper place over muggles?"

The Dark Lord had been sitting on a throne when he said this. At his feet lay the freshly bleeding corpses of two muggles, teenagers, that bore a striking resemblance to Potter. It was a most upsetting sight.

"I knew I had to give up something," Daphne said, "and I knew it would spell both our dooms if I were to talk of your achievements, your research. Instead, I told the Dark Lord we dated."

"And he didn't say or do anything about that?" Alexander said once it became clear that Daphne didn't know what to say next. The skepticism was clear in his voice.

She shook her head as she suppressed a cringe. "It was horrifying. He beckoned me closer and hugged me, like a father offering his daughter consoling. His hand on my head felt like a heavy stone, threatening to smash open my skull. He told me that even though I had made mistakes, I could repent and still join him."

"I told him I wasn't worthy. He laughed, saying no one was, but told me the offer would be made again upon my graduation from Hogwarts. He told me that he knew I'd make the right choice. Alex, I can't-"

"The plan to remove you and Astoria is still in place," Alexander said, cutting her off. Relief flew through Daphne once again but was dashed at his next words. "Regardless of your personal feelings for me, I keep my promises. Astoria won't pay for my mistakes."

"Alex, you didn't make a mistake, I did," Daphne said.

"I killed your father, Daphne."

Daphne breathed in a deep, shaky breath, before exhaling it in one go. "You did. And I'll never forget that. But you didn't do it out of cruelty. And having met the Dark Lord..."

"You realize the necessity of it."

The words were hard and cruel, but Daphne still nodded her head. "Astoria doesn't know. Mother assumed it was one of the Aurors and is quite cross with them. But I don't think I could ever tell them the truth. They wouldn't understand."

Alexander was silent at that. Daphne desperately cast about for a subject to keep their call going; she didn't want it to end. Daphne never realized how much she longed to see Alexander's face, hear his voice. Goosebumps ghosted her flesh at the memory of the sensation of his touch, and she spoke of the first thing to cross her mind.

"Did you hear about Azkaban? Someone tried to burn it down."

A ghost of a smile crossed Alexander's lips, tugging at one of the scars on his face. Daphne knew him well enough to know that meant he was amused. "Imagine that."

Daphne's eyes narrowed. He knew something. "Alex? Would you happen to know how that happened?"

"It's a funny story, really. Do you remember the Dementor that sucked out the souls of your attackers back in our third year?"

Burning hatred, long-buried, surged forth at the empty feeling of hopelessness that memory brought her. Daphne let it fade, though, as she nodded. "Vaguely. Tall, dark, and soul-sucking, why?"

"Well, it certainly remembered me. The Aurors who arrested me brought me to Azkaban to get my soul sucked out. The Dementor that approached asked me if it was 'feeding time' which surprised the hell out of me. It killed the Aurors, and I set it loose on Azkaban."

Daphne was shocked but somehow unsurprised that Alexander could talk so casually about commanding a Dementor, a wraith that had been untamed since their discovery. They could only be bargained with, although Daphne could guess that giving it food would also create a certain amount of obedience. "How did the fire start then?"

Alexander shrugged. "I saw sparks when I apparated away. I was just charged with magic theft. I wasn't going to stick around to question anyone."

Daphne rolled her eyes. That was the Alex she knew and loved. Casually performing magical feats that were beyond mortal wizards and doing the impossible. Alexander looked off to the side at something before looking back at her.

"I need to get some rest, I'm still recovering. I'll try to keep my tablet near me around dawn each day, so call me if you need anything. Make sure to vary your times, so you're not caught by anyone."

Daphne blinked at how quickly Alexander said that. But she needed to tell him something, something that had been eating at her for months. "Alex, wait!" she said as he began to put the tablet down.

"Yes?" he asked, turning it back to him.

"Can I call you just to talk?" Daphne asked, her voice small. "I've missed you."

Alexander's face softened, ever so slightly that had Daphne not known him as well as she did, she would have assumed nothing had changed. "I've missed you too. Of course you can."

Daphne couldn't help the smile that crossed her face at that. "Thank you." As Alexander went to close the connection, she panicked, calling out again, "wait!"

"What?" There was a slight tone of irritation in Alexander's voice as he pressed a muggle object to his forehead tightly. Daphne belatedly realized he had a headache.

"Sorry, but I thought you should know. Crabbe and Goyle were talking about a Taboo placed on the Dark Lord's name. They tied it into the wards connected to the Portkey Office somehow, and it sends up a notification if anyone says the Dark Lord's name. I thought you should know."

An intense look came over Alexander's face. Daphne knew that look well. The thousand-yard stare, how he looked right through her as his thoughts raced. It was a look she loved seeing cross his face, and it felt so bitter knowing that things were so sour between them. But for a moment, she could pretend that everything was normal, that he was in the castle safe and not on the run.

"Fascinating. Thank you, Daphne, I think that will prove very helpful. Try to get some sleep. I think we both need it," Alexander said before cutting off the connection.

Daphne wrapped her arms around the tablet and pulled it close. "I love you," she murmured, knowing he couldn't hear it. Oh, how she wished she had the courage to tell it to him once more.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

A week passed before Alexander felt human again. Despite being a mediocre witch, Umbridge's Crucios still left a lasting pain that was difficult to shake. Fortunately, Alexander had plenty to keep himself occupied with, especially after he left a special present in the British Library in London.

It was a simple stone bust of Winston Churchill, placed in the exact center of the library, but Alexander was incredibly proud of it. Years ago, he had utilized a simple linking spell between his tablet and a stone in his parent's home. It allowed his tablet to display all of the non-magical books that were in their home. The bust was an upgraded version.

Previously, Alexander's tablet would lose access to the books once they left the radius of the stone, as it possessed no capacity for storage. However, Alexander had managed to tweak the spells to allow the tablet to relist the books once they entered the stone's radius. It still wasn't perfect, organization left much to be desired, but by using runes etched into the stone bust's base, the spell would not wear off until the runes wore down in a few hundred years.

Alexander was quite pleased with it, although it meant he had an astonishing amount of romance novels he had no intention of ever reading. Still, the whole collection was kept separate from the magical texts he had copied from the Hogwarts Library, so there was that.

The reason why this was important was because Alexander used his access to the British Library to get a map of the Welsh Campsite the Mudblood Relocation Camp was located in. He would still have to go there physically, but with a map on hand, it should be much easier for him to search for a hidden compound.

Which was why, once he was fully healed, Alexander made his way to the campsite by non-magical means, not wanting to risk detection by accidentally apparating too close. It took him a day of slow, careful travel, but he reasoned that caution would serve him better here, although it quickly grew aggravating casting glamours on himself to maintain his disguise. But as he stepped off the bus and made his way into the woods, he knew he was in the right place.

Only Dementors could cause this dense fog, after all.

He walked cautiously through the trees, a watchful eye on the shadows all around him. Despite the temptation to create light or fire, Alexander knew he should not. He had only just escaped captivity, and he had no desire to return to it.

In his hands, he gripped a short length of rebar, no more than a foot long, that he had melted and painted until it resembled a wand. It was ugly, but effective, and chosen because it should be sturdy enough to withstand being banished into the chest of one of his enemies. His real wand, despite being magicless, was safely hidden with his research and Philosopher Stones in a place only he could get to.

Alexander held it loosely in one hand, ready to banish it at a moment's notice. The oppressive chill of the Dementor's aura seemed to be stronger to his left so, reluctantly, he pursued it. As the biting cold penetrated his body, Alexander briefly wished he could cast the Patronus Charm. Unfortunately, he lacked the happy memory needed to make the magic work, even with Daphne's companionship.

But he did have his magic. Alexander wrapped it around himself, tight against his skin, and it warmed his frozen limbs and lent him strength. His pace picked up as he wandered through the forest, always on the lookout for magic.

The sun had fallen, and Alexander was just contemplating creating shelter for the night when he stumbled upon it. There, through the bushes and trees ahead of him, he could see two wizards, leaning against a tree, smoking. Alexander silently hid and moved closer.

"Brr, it's freezing out here, Roy. Wish they'd let us make a fire," one wizard said.

Roy snorted. "If you weren't such a piss poor wizard, you'd use a warming charm, Billy."

"You know I don't like those things. They make me sweat!"

The two fools argued for a few more minutes over the benefits of warming charms. Alexander raised his rebar wand, prepared to end their lives when he halted his actions. Someone just Apparated in not four feet from him.

"Howards, Vickers! I've got another Mudblood for you," the new man said, throwing a crying woman to the ground in front of them. Roy lazily tied her up with a wave of his wand. "Put her with the others."

"You got it, Jerry," Roy said, casting another spell to levitate the woman. He magicked her away, ignoring her pitiful wails as she was dragged into the darkness between trees.

Billy scratched his nose before blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Thought we weren't getting anymore tonight, Jerry?"

Jerry shrugged. "The Aurors picked her up trying to get gold out of Gringotts. Gotta love those little goblin bastards, you'd think it was business as usual with how they're acting."

The two men shared a laugh before bidding each other goodnight. Jerry Apparated away, leaving Roy to smoke quietly. And in the darkness, crouched Alexander, with murderous intent gleaming in his eyes.

It was time the wizarding world paid.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander picked up a loose stone from the ground. He wrapped it in his magic, causing it to vibrate ever so slightly with repressed energy, before directing it toward the guard named Roy. It took off like a bullet, crushing the wizard's skull instantly.

Under cover of darkness, Alexander moved closer. The two trees the wizards had been standing by framed a cave entrance, leading down into darkness. No light could be seen within, but that didn't concern Alexander. However, the fact that Billy hadn't returned yet did.

Which was why Alexander cautiously moved into the dark cave, finding the floor beneath his feet immediately slant in a sharp slope. His footing was treacherous, the lighting atrocious, and a feeling of unease crept into his belly as he inched along the cave walls.

Suddenly, light filled his vision, temporarily blinding him. "Who the hell are you?" Billy's voice demanded somewhere from Alexander's left. Despite blinking spots from his eyes, Alexander wasted no time in banishing his rebar wand in the man's general direction, a meaty thump answering him. Any jubilation Alexander felt from that quickly died as other voices began cursing.

Still trying to restore his vision, Alexander knelt to the ground, raising a wall of earth. The telltale sound of curses hitting earth rang out, and blindly Alexander transfigured the mound into a porcelain wall with one hand while banishing it with the other.

Beneath his fingers, the wall shattered, pushed away by his magic, and sent speeding towards his foes. They had only a moment to curse frantically before the shrapnel hit them, cutting into their delicate flesh. It bought Alexander precious time to regain his vision and see where he was finally.

Unlike the tunnel, dark and earthen, the room Alexander was in now would not have been out of place in Hogwarts. A quick glance behind revealed an enchanted archway, keeping the tunnel dark and cold out while preventing no warmth or light from escaping. Billy was pinned to a wall by the throat, his wand lying uselessly at his feet. Alexander summoned his rebar wand back to his hand, causing Billy to fall to the ground, dead.

"Where's the bastard!" an angry voice demanded. Alexander turned to see four more wizards stumbling around in pain, bleeding from dozens of wounds. They were slowly regaining their senses, but Alexander wasn't going to let them recover fully.

He banished the rebar again, killing another wizard. He ripped it out, flinging it in a spin at the next. Unfortunately, it hit the man's ribcage just wrong, becoming trapped in his chest. The last two wizards had recovered during Alexander's focus on their comrades and began to throw curses once more.

Alexander rolled to the side, not at all bothered by the loss of the rebar wand. In truth, he only used it because very few wizards seemed to understand the dangers of physics, something that he personally blamed Quidditch for. After all, wizardkind thought the idea that an enchanted cannonball trying to knock you off a piece of fragile wood from one hundred meters in the air was sane. It didn't matter if wizards were sturdier than the average muggle, physics when applied correctly, hurt.

Which was why Alexander didn't cast a spell or at least one that was in any book. He infused his magic with his intent, causing earthen hands to burst from the stone walls and grab the two wizards from behind. The wizards panicked, suddenly unable to cast their precious magic, and Alexander made the hands twist violently, breaking their bones. They could only scream as their lives were squeezed out of them.

Leaving the hands to do their job, Alexander searched the bodies, taking any wand he could find. As tempting as it was to snap them, the men were already dead and would not be able to appreciate the insult. So, instead, Alexander would give them to people much more worthy:

Like the captured Muggleborn.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: I wrote the first part from Daphne's perspective because when I wrote it from Alexander's, it came across as a little too heartless. Make no mistake, they both have feelings for one another, but they're both still hurting.

I tried to lay some groundwork with Crabbe and Goyle being dangerous in Canon Year Seven. They know about the Taboo because they're basically mini-Death Eaters at this point. But I couldn't resist them bragging about it to everyone else, because well teenagers are idiots.

Back-up weapon: He has his rebar wand, but otherwise no. I do have plenty of ideas for Alexander to pursue, but none of them will be during Year Seven. After all, these are just prequels to his real journey.

I hope you're all enjoying the story.


	21. Year 7 Part 4

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Three rooms branched off before him, and Alexander cautiously opened the doors to them. The first led to a kitchen, where a man was snoozing in the corner, a bottle of alcohol opened in his hand. Alexander cast a Silencing Charm over the man before casting an Organ Rotting Curse, causing the man to wake up instantly. He silently screamed as he died, unable to make a sound thanks to Alexander's spells.

The next room was a barracks of some sort. There were many beds, and some were occupied by sleeping wizards, who were no doubt guards. As much as Alexander wanted to summon more earthen arms, he knew there were too many wizards for him to focus on at once. It would only take one mistake for them to kill him, so he needed to be cautious.

Which was why Alexander carefully began to weave an enchantment over the occupied beds, causing the sheets and blankets to twist like snakes. Amusingly, Alexander had found this enchantment in a book on sex magic, used to bind one's lover to the bed. It was especially useful as it also encouraged the captive to remain sleeping through the motions and to remain tight until dispelled.

While Alexander doubted this was what the inventor of the spell intended when they created it, it suited his purposes fine, as he finished up the last captive. Unfortunately, this wizard slept in the nude and felt a sudden cold draft over his naked body, waking him up instantly. Alexander's silencing spell hit him too late, and the man screamed in horror at his predicament.

His screams woke up the other men who also joined in. Unfortunately, a door at the far end of the room opened up, revealing a rather angry looking man with a Dark Mark tattooed on his arm. His eyes immediately landed on Alexander.

"Kill him, Rookwood!" one of the captives shouted.

Alexander half expected the man, Rookwood, to say something, which was why Alexander was almost too slow to dodge out of the way of a thin, yellow curse. It impacted the wall behind him, causing a small implosion. Alexander retaliated with three quick Piercing Hexes, aimed waist-high, and spread out.

Rookwood viciously slashed his wand, causing a prismatic barrier to spring up around him. It absorbed the hexes easily, before shimmering and allowing Rookwood to return fire. Despite the seriousness of the battle, Alexander found himself reluctantly impressed his foe could cast and maintain a Prism Shield, as it required intense focus to maintain.

Which was why Alexander switched to quick, ridiculous schoolyard spells. The Jelly-Legs-Jinx was spammed quite a few times, causing the Prism Shield to shimmer like a rainbow. It was the downside of the spell; it could handle most spells easily, but if magic kept hitting it, it would not allow the wizard who cast it the chance to cast anything back. Rookwood was trapped behind his own shield.

Alexander was not. He stopped using the rebar wand entirely, allowing it to hover in front of him. He cast as many spells as he could at Rookwood, causing the Prism Shield to flare brilliantly, before banishing the rebar again. It knifed through the air and slammed through the Prism Shield, which only protected against magic.

Rookwood was hit, but not fatally, as the rebar wand only punctured his left arm. He stared at Alexander with a small measure of interest in his eyes. But as Alexander went to go on the offensive, Rookwood jabbed his wand into the air, casting a pink spell that Alexander could now identify as a jinx to block Apparation, before dissolving into black smoke.

The few spells Alexander cast through the smoke did nothing, and it soared past him unbothered. He could almost see a grinning face looking at him from within, but the moment was gone, and the black smoke slipped through the door and away, as fast as a spell.

Alexander swore and angrily slashed his hands. The two beds closest to him collapse inward violently, puncturing both men with wooden shards. Alexander ignored their horrified screams and moved down the room to do the same to the rest of the pleading captives, pocketing their wands as he went along.

His grisly task done, Alexander made his way back into the main room, unable to see Rookwood. He quickly made his way to the last door and threw it open, a curse ready to leap from his hands, but it was unneeded. He had found the Muggleborns.

One of them recognized him. "Is that you, Dantes?" Dean Thomas asked from inside a cage. He was stuffed inside with ten other men.

"Yes, Dean Thomas, right?" Alexander asked quickly, moving to the door. It was protected from tampering magically, and he was loathed to reveal his wandless magic to this many people. "Where are the keys?"

"On the wall, there!" a woman hissed, pointing to the door Alexander just came through. Mentally shaking his head at the stupidity of wizards, Alexander retrieved them and opened Dean Thomas' cage. He handed them off to another prisoner.

"Open everyone else's cage quickly; we need to leave fast. Thomas, are there any other prisoners?"

Dean Thomas shook his head in reply. "No, this is it. Who else is with you?"

"No one," Alexander said, trying to count the shifting crowd. It looked to be about two hundred Muggle-born.

"Bollocks, who else is with you, boy?" an older man said. Alexander gave him a dirty look.

"No one. Does anyone know how many guards were stationed here?" he called out to the room at large.

"Sixteen, I think. But they come and go," an old woman said, causing Alexander to frown. He was pretty sure he only killed fourteen men, and Rookwood escaped. He sighed in frustration.

"Right, we need to leave now before they come back with reinforcements. I have portkeys to safe houses all over London, but I need you to split up into groups of twelve. They can track gatherings of wizards above that."

There was a not insubstantial amount of protest at that, but Alexander was quickly losing his patience with the crowd.

"Enough! More Death Eaters are going to be here if we don't leave now. I am offering you a safe house, one where you can rest and recover before finding your families, and then getting the hell out of this country! If you're waiting for a rescue party, this is it! I am all you've got! Now you can either sit here, in this wretched dungeon, and await the return of your captors, or you can get outside and out from underneath the wards so we can leave!" Alexander roared.

The Muggle-born were silent, shifting awkwardly around in shame. Alexander nearly swore, leaving them all behind, but one young woman, only a few years older than himself, moved forward. "You heard the man. Let's move."

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

They were not attacked as they exited the Mudblood Relocation Camp, but that did not mean things went smoothly. Organizing the mob was a pain and a half, and Alexander nearly resorted to stunning the foolish ones so they could leave. But it was one idiot in particular that made Alexander want to rip his hair out.

He was a young man with haunted eyes. He had no doubt experienced great loss, but that did not excuse his actions. He had somehow managed to get his hands on a wand that Alexander had missed and turned it on his former prison. And of all the spells he could have cast, he cast the worst possible one.

Fiendfyre was not a spell that one could simply point and cast. It required a depth of emotion, a darkness that was beyond most people. Then you needed a great deal of magical control to leash the summoned creation to your will, which would then be tested every moment until the magic was canceled. Alexander would never cast it himself as the costs were simply too high, too dangerous.

The young man with haunted eyes did not have a great deal of magical control, nor a strong will power. But he did have the simmering darkness within that allowed him to bring forth the flames of Hell, and that was regrettably enough. The magic of Fiendfyre turned on its summoner, burning him instantly to ash before roaring in jubilation at its newfound freedom. It immediately set fire to the trees.

"Everyone, leave now!" Alexander ordered. The Muggle-born panicked, activating their portkeys regardless of how many people were with them. Groups of six, ten, and twenty all left in panicked bursts, whirling away from the scene of destruction before them. Soon, only Alexander was left, staring up at the beast he refused ever to summon.

He knew there was nothing he could do to quench it. Now that the summoner was dead, the Fiendfyre would only abate once the magic exhausted itself, which would not be for many hours. It would burn everything in these woods, no doubt, leaving behind nothing but ash and destruction.

But as Alexander watched the flames gorge itself on the Mudblood Relocation Camp, he couldn't help but feel angry at the young man who summoned it. Twice now, the wizards had used prisons to house their Muggle-borns, and twice now, they had been destroyed. Alexander doubted that even the Purebloods would be so foolish as to do it a third time, which meant he would never be able to do this again.

The Dark Lord's forces would take their prisoners to secret locations, known only to a few. To their hidden and protected homes, their garrisons, unassailable to all. Alexander doubted he would be able to save any more Muggle-born in this way, not in so great a number anyway. The war, his war, just became so much more difficult.

With a heavy heart, he turned his back on the flames and apparated to the first safe house. He needed to make sure everyone was safe.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: Rookwood is what I would like to call an intelligent Pure-blood, or at least I would hope he would be considering he canonically works as an Unspeakable before being arrested. He's smart enough to know when to run away.

The Mudblood Relocation Camp needed to be destroyed somehow. It seemed weird that in canon prisoners were kept in Malfoy Manor, so I figured that meant Azkaban and the Camp were unusable in some manner. I figured two destroyed prisons, within a week of one another, would make Voldemort think it was a stupid idea, forcing his followers to keep prisoners in their own home. It would also mean that fewer prisoners would be taken, resulting in more executions.

Fiendfyre: Cursed flames straight from Hell, with some form of sentience. Alexander's reasonably wary of tinkering with such a destructive force of magic at this point in his life. Controllable or not, he's not suicidal. I do think that they can only last for so long, as otherwise they'd consume the entire planet in a raging inferno eventually. Since that didn't happen, there's some time limit involved.

Non-magical weapons and Magic: Snapping your fingers to create a nuclear explosion two feet in front of you? Like there are absolutely no ways that could ever go wrong, be abused, or kill you instantly? Hard pass, especially since using magic on an atomic scale hasn't be done yet (although who is to say what's to happen in the future). Chemistry has far more potential, but if Alexander wanted to make acid, there are already spells for that. As for flight, there's already a canon way to do that that I think would be much more efficient than basically being a hot air balloon.

Nuclear explosions: As fun as it would be, I'm not going to create a shield/ward that can tank a nuclear explosion. There are much more elegant ways of dealing with physical force after all. Radiation poisoning, on the other hand, is a much more fascinating issue for magic to deal with, and one I'll hopefully be able to explore once canon is done.

Which leads into the final issue: Writing these stories has actually taken up far more time than I initially expected. I'll keep posting Year Seven daily until it's done, but I'll most likely be moving to once weekly for the next installment.

I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	22. Year 7 Part 5

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Other than breaking up the group of twenty, Alexander did not need to do anything more for the rescued Muggle-born, not that there was much he could. The adults among them had already displayed the competence Alexander had come to only expect from himself, feeding themselves and the children from the supplies Alexander provided. From there, it was logistics.

Some of the Muggle-born would travel to France, via non-magical means, to escape the Ministry and the Dark Lord. Others first wanted to retrieve their families, wanting to get them to safety, which was something Alexander wholeheartedly endorsed. But it was the orphans that were a sticking point, with no home to return to.

Eventually, Alexander managed to arrange for a few older Muggle-borns to take them, ones with children of their own. It took some convincing, but it was necessary, Britain was no longer safe for their kind, no place to raise a child.

Yet a handful of witches and wizards stayed behind. Twelve witches and wizards, many of them many years Alexander's senior, looking at him semi-respectfully. It would seem rescuing them and murdering Death Eaters was good for something.

"So you're taking off?" Alexander asked. Dean Thomas nervously shuffled in front of him.

"I need to find me ma. Ted offered to help," Dean said, jerking his thumb at another wizard. "Sorry, Dantes. You're really an alright bloke."

Alexander gave him a nod. "Thanks, Thomas. Keep your head down; I don't know if I'll be able to mount another rescue operation to save you." And didn't that twist something fierce, knowing that the Pure-bloods could and would learn? Private Citizens Containing Undesirables, as the Daily Prophet called it. Private torture, in Alexander's opinion.

"No need to worry about that lad, we've got a good head on our shoulders. I camped all the time as a kid," Ted Tonks boasted. Alexander nodded, and the two men apparated away.

Alexander turned and considered the remaining ten witches and wizards for a moment before speaking. "You're welcome to use this safe house for as long as you'd like. But this is the last chance to back out. Anyone who comes with me is coming to fight. That means killing."

He could see unease stir through them. "I don't want you going into this with false notions. We will be killing people. Death Eaters, Aurors, anyone who thinks the Muggle-born and non-magicals are unworthy of being alive. If you leave now, I won't take it personally, but if you leave later on, I will have to treat it as though you are betraying us."

"You'd hunt us down?" a woman asked, outraged. Alexander nodded.

"Without a shred of remorse. As far as I am aware, we are the only ones resisting. Which means we are the only hope for the Muggle-born of Britain and if the Dark Lord succeeds here the world. After that the non-magical humans will be attacked, and I know all of you are aware of how World War Two ended, I have no doubt it'd be the same here. Tyranny cannot prevail."

As some of the other Muggleborn nodded, the woman who protested stepped forward, anger and fear on her face. "You're insane! I will not become a murderer for you!"

"Obliviate."

The hysterical witch fell backward, landing with a soft thump on the floor of the warehouse. Alexander calmly lowered his new rebar wand, as the remaining Muggle-born looked between him and the fallen witch with surprise and unease. He stepped forward and dropped a string on her chest, and the Portkey activated, whisking her away quietly.

"I sent her to the last group of refugees in London. Does anyone else wish to join her? Again, there will be no hard feelings."

The nine Muggle-born shared glances, but Alexander only kept his eyes on one man, who was standing off to the side, away from the others. He met Alexander's gaze easily enough.

"And you, sir, what about you?" Alexander asked. "Are you willing to fight with me?"

Everyone's attention shifted, focusing on the man Alexander had singled out. Still, he nodded, stepping forward, closer to the group. "Aye. I'll fight with you."

Alexander grinned. "I'm happy to hear that, but that's a surprising answer coming from you. After all, aren't you a Death Eater?"

The man's left hand plunged into his robes, no doubt grabbing a wand concealed there. The Muggle-born were entirely defenseless, as Alexander had yet to hand out the wands he had collected from the Mudblood Relocation Camp, and took a panicked step away. The Death Eater's wand cleared his robes.

And Alexander's cutting curse removed the man's arm, causing a spray of blood to blossom. The man collapsed, howling in agony, and his features flickered as a glamour faded. On the ground, in a bloody puddle, lay his arm, a Dark Mark revealed in all its wretched glory.

Alexander idly cast a small burst of flame on the man's shoulder, cauterizing the cut and causing the Death Eater to scream out in pain.

"I thought that was Dave," one man muttered. Alexander frowned and stepped closer, kicking the Death Eater to get his attention.

"What happened to the Muggle-born whose face you stole?"

The man gasped in pain but began to chuckle darkly. "Dead. Just like the rest of you, if you don't let me go."

Alexander rolled his eyes. "Is that a fact?"

The Death Eater looked up with a dangerous gleam in his eye. "All I have to do is say Volde-" The man began to choke as his tongue twisted in his mouth. It was only a prelude to his screams of pain, as his tongue was magically pulled from his mouth with a bloody squelch. Alexander carelessly caught it and examined it briefly before tossing it to the side. He knelt and wiped his hand on the writhing man's back.

"I already knew about the Taboo, but thank you for confirming it. I can't wait to study it more in-depth. It's some sort of alert or Summoning Spell, I think," Alexander told the watching Muggleborn. He turned his focus back to the crying man at his feet. "Well, we found the last Death Eater from the Mudblood Relocation Camp, at least."

Alexander stood, stowing his wand, and clapping his hands before him. "Which one of you is going to kill him?"

The room grew deathly silent as everyone looked at him. Alexander smirked. "This is what we'll be doing—killing Death Eaters—stopping them before they can kill more. Think of it like pruning a garden of a few bad plants. You have to cut them out. But if you come with me, all of you need to be prepared to kill."

The only sound in the warehouse was of the crying Death Eater at Alexander's feet. The Muggle-born gave each other looks, wondering who would step forward to become a killer, or who would leave to be Obliviated. Alexander didn't bother looking at them; instead, he picked idly at his nails while blood soaked his boots. Finally, one woman stepped forward.

She was probably ten or so years older than Alexander. She moved to stand before him, glaring up defiantly into his eyes. Slowly she bent down, slender fingers grasping the Death Eater's fallen wand, and picking it up. She stood over the defeated man and raised the wand high.

A flash of crimson left it, punching through the Death Eater's chest. It caved in, puncturing the heart and killing the man instantly. It was an almost merciful death considering what Alexander had already done to him.

Slowly, Alexander approached the heavily breathing witch, careful not to startle her. He gently pushed her hand and wand down and looked her in the eye. "What is your name?" he asked.

"Cassandra Tate," she answered. Alexander nodded.

"Well met, Cassandra. Well done." Alexander gently tugged her, so she was no longer facing her kill and addressed the silently watching Muggle-born.

"Cassandra has done what you will all do in the coming weeks. You will prove your loyalty, ability, and willingness by killing a Death Eater. Our war will not be easy, our lives even worse, but we stand here today so that the future children of Great Britain do not have to grow up in the shadow of tyranny, that they may learn of and explore their magical gifts without any prejudice! Who stands with me?"

Every single witch and wizard before him raised their fists high and roared their agreement.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

The following weeks were difficult. Only eight Muggle-born remained, nine if Alexander included himself, of varying ages and personalities. Getting them to work together, let alone obey Alexander's orders was difficult, made more so by the ones who resented his young age and obvious magical skill.

The first issue they had was Alexander's insistence on leaving the safe house he created. It was not a popular decision.

"But we're safe here!" Douglas Jacobs protested. He was the oldest man there, almost forty, and the Aurors had killed his wife and daughter on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. He was one of the most vocal against Alexander.

"We're safe and a sitting duck. The Ministry of Magic can track groups of wizards, and they'll send somebody out here to investigate eventually. We need to keep moving if we want to be truly safe," Alexander argued.

"He's right," Peggy Stevens said. She held the hand of Theodora Anders, who was silently glaring at Douglas.

"What would you know about that?" Douglas sneered.

Peggy glared right back. "I worked at the Ministry as a clerk! Everyone there knows about the Portkey Office. At best we'd have a month, at worst only a week. I'd prefer not to be recaptured again, thank you very much!"

The other Muggle-born muttered agreements, and Douglas growled angrily. Finally, the insufferable man put his hand on the Portkey Alexander held out before him.

It activated a second later, taking the group away from the safe house that Alexander had set up. While he knew they could have remained there for a few more days, Alexander didn't want to risk the Ministry of Magic being competent. Better safe than dead.

The Portkey took them to the coast of Scottland, far from any tourist spots or cities. It was a beautiful, desolate area, and the likelihood of someone physically stumbling upon them was low. However, they had no sooner made it when the next issue arose.

"I will not sleep on the bloody ground like some animal!" Douglas Jacobs shouted when Alexander told them to start making their own shelters.

Alexander's temper finally snapped. "Are you a wizard, or a fool? Transfigure a bed!" _The nerve of some people_, Alexander thought.

A voice awkwardly cleared behind him. Turning, Alexander found Theodora standing before him. "Yes, Theodora?" he asked with a long-suffering sigh.

"Peggy and I were hoping for a spot of privacy," she admitted with a small blush. Peggy was beyond her shoulder, helping Cassandra transfigure a boulder into an acceptable lean-to.

Alexander nearly rolled his eyes. "I'll be putting wards over the area from that boulder," he pointed, "to that one. Please just soundproof your shelter."

"Thank you," Theodora said, scurrying over to Peggy. More footsteps approached Alexander from the side, causing him to turn once more. Leo Howards stood there apologetically, with his son Oscar beside him.

"Easy lad, we don't need anything. I was just going to tell you we're going to start a cooking fire. I think a warm meal will help everyone relax," Leo said. Alexander nodded tiredly.

"Thank you, that'd be appreciated," Alexander said. Oscar's blatant staring at Cassandra's bent over body caught his eye. "Whatever it is you're thinking, don't. Your horniness is not important to our survival here."

Oscar gave him a dirty look. "It's important to my survival," he muttered. Leo dragged his son away.

Alexander finally managed to begin casting the wards, electing for simple enchantments over inscribed runes. They'd be weaker and not nearly as durable, but they were all he had the energy for at the moment. He finished them up by adding a non-magical repelling ward and collapsed at a stone table that James Williams had transfigured.

"When are we going after the Death Eaters?" James asked, darkness in his eyes.

"When I know where everyone is in terms of magical ability. I didn't save you so I could throw you to your deaths," Alexander said, a headache growing. He never knew how tiring dealing with people was until now.

"I'll prove it now!" James said, beginning to rise. A female hand forced him down.

Mina Finkton, the last member of their group, joined them. "Down boy. I think a day of rest is what we need right now," she said. She turned toward Alexander. "I built an extra shelter over there for you. Figured you'd be too busy with the wards."

Alexander nodded gratefully but eyed the fuming James. "Thank you. I'll be teaching you all over the next few days how to cast the wards and enchantments I used, as well as how to rip them down. It'll help us in the long run."

Slowly the others joined them, summoning logs and rocks to make chairs for themselves. Alexander belatedly realized that James must have made two chairs, and decided to hold off on judging him too harshly. Douglas was last, glaring at everyone and especially Alexander, but he tried not to let it get to him.

"I know it's been a rough few days for us all," Alexander began. He deliberately ignored Douglas' scoff. "But we need to work together. We all have our reasons for being here, some personal and some not. I will share with you my own."

Glad that he had everyone's attention, Alexander continued. "A little over two years ago, the Dark Lord returned. Potter told Dumbledore, who told us, but no one believed them. Who would? The world has been at peace for years; no one wanted to believe it was over. But a few weeks after term ended, my family was paid a visit by the Death Eaters.

"They had gotten their hands on my little brother's Hogwarts letter. He had just turned eleven, and they made sure to bring it to my family personally," Alexander growled. Even years later, the memories still hurt as the images of his dead family flashed before his eyes.

"They tortured my family and me, torturing them so badly they died from their wounds. But I managed to kill them. I killed them, and I don't regret it one bit," Alexander said, finally looking up at the other Muggle-born. Even Douglas was listening, pain, and loss in his eyes.

"I hate bullies. Always have. The Death Eaters are the worst kind of human imaginable, more beast than man. I have no problem ending these monsters because I know exactly what they'll do if they're allowed to spread. And I refuse to let that happen."

Alexander stood up. "That's why I fight. See you all in the morning."

And with that, Alexander went to bed.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: Sex magic will not be in this story.

If you were curious how Alexander saw through the disguise of the Death Eater, it's a use of Occlumency. It shields the mind from magical effects, and in this story a glamour doesn't change anything physical, it's basically an illusion. This does raise the question of invisibility/Dislusionment but I'm leaning more toward those both being physical effects.

Everyone's interactions at camp: Tried to make them feel organic, show each person's state of mind. Including Alexander there are five men and four women. Their backstories/reasons for being arrested will be revealed over time.

I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	23. Year 7 Part 6

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Despite Alexander's desires, and his fellow Muggle-born's, they did not go on the offensive against the Death Eaters immediately. No, after a restless night of sleeping, Alexander decided on a much better course of action.

He woke up before the sun and immediately set to work, using magic to shape and carve rocks into shallow bowls. They were simple, ugly Pensieves, but they didn't need to be beautiful to do their job. Alexander handed them out to the others as they woke and told them why.

"The Wizarding World doesn't have a phonebook or census that's available to the public. As much as I would love to mount an assault on the Ministry to access their records until I know more about your capabilities, we cannot. So we're going to need to find the Muggle-born who are in danger in another way."

Alexander had each of the witches and wizards deposit their memories of their Sorting Ceremonies, all the ones they could remember. They entered and exited the memories multiple times, writing down all the names they could, and tried to build a census of their own. The results were mixed, the years had been long and unkind to some, but slowly they built up the names and what details they could remember.

Unlike the Wizarding World, the non-magical world did have phonebooks and census records. Using the little details they could remember, they began to track down the Muggle-born living in the non-magical world, buying the information they needed, or copying it magically when bribery was unavailable to them. It left a sour taste in the mouths of some of them, but Alexander was unyielding on his orders, they needed to be proactive.

Their results did bear fruit. Slowly they contacted the men and women on their lists, finding them in all walks of life. The Wizarding World may have turned their backs on them, discriminating against them in every aspect of life, but Alexander was unwilling to leave them ignorant of the danger they were in. He called, he went door to door, and some he even posted letters to, and he told them all what they needed to do.

Some were foolish and ignored his warnings. Others had stayed in touch with the Wizarding World and knew some of the dangers they were in. These ones thanked him, willingly sharing any information on Muggle-born that they knew before escaping the country, to less dangerous lands.

Every few homes Alexander visited would be empty, usually damaged, and cursed in some manner. The bloodstains and broken furniture told him all he needed to know, and he hoped those lost souls had an easy death. Somehow Alexander always doubted it, and he would undo the damages as best he could before leaving.

There were two reasons why Alexander did this task alone. The first was for security, should any of the Muggle-born be caught by Death Eaters or Aurors, then they would only be able to give up his face, his name, and not anyone else's. Their little resistance would continue, no matter what.

The second reason had to do with the magical ability of the other Muggle-borns. Only Cassandra, Leo, Peggy, and James had any prior magical combat experience, and all had lost, resulting in their capture. And of those three, only Peggy had taken a life, killing two Aurors when they arrested Theodora in Hogsmeade.

So he had them practicing, fighting one another. At the end of the first day, he had returned to find them dueling of all things, bowing to one another and politely waiting for fallen foes to stand. Alexander had lost his temper.

He launched a curse at the sand beneath their feet, causing it to blast up in a cloud. As they cried out, startled at the sudden attack, Alexander caught the sand with a wind charm, causing it to whirl around in a violent circle, blinding them further. Two curses, from Cassandra and Douglas, did lance out in his general direction, but both missed Alexander by a wide, unforgiving margin. He lashed back with two Bludgeoning Charms, throwing them back.

The remaining six, Alexander demolished, cutting their limbs with weak Cutting Charms, making their legs dance uncontrollably beneath them, and causing their clothes to grow stiff, restricting their movements. Eight, vicious stunners, leaped from Alexander's rebar wand and slammed into their faces, knocking them out. He tied them up with ropes before awakening them.

"Pathetic," Alexander growled, pacing in front of the battered witches and wizards angrily. "Why the hell were you dueling one another?"

"You said we needed practice," James growled, struggling with his ropes futilely. "So, we were practicing."

Alexander sneered. "And you think the Death Eaters are going to bow to you? That the Aurors are going to care about letting you get off the floor if you've been knocked down! Morons! They're slaughtering innocents, cutting them down in cold blood, and you think they give a damn about rules!"

He dropped their wands in a pile before them, well out of reach. "You need to become vicious. You need to be violent. You are not just fighting to keep yourself safe, me safe; you're fighting to keep everyone else safe! If we fail, that's it! The world is screwed, and it will be because you bowed to a damn Death Eater instead of cursing his face off!"

"I don't want to be anything like them!" Mina Finkton protested. Alexander glared at her.

"Then, don't be! Don't torture people because you view them as animals. Don't kill them because you think they're lesser beings, unworthy of magic. But do not be so pacifistic that you'll allow them to do that to others!"

"But you do," Oscar whispered. "You tortured that Death Eater in the warehouse."

"I stopped him from uttering the Dark Lord's name, from triggering the Taboo that would have brought more of them upon us," Alexander argued. "Yes, I did it in a violent manner, and to be honest, I'd do it the same way again. I cannot look at the Death Eaters, their ideology, their methods without feeling hatred and horror. I refuse to allow them to destroy this world, and I will do anything to stop them."

Alexander let them ponder his words for a moment. He could see how one by one, they accepted them as truth, no matter how distasteful it might be. Alexander could see how determination settled upon them. He nodded.

"Now what?" Cassandra asked softly. Alexander smiled.

"Well, right now, I'm a Death Eater, and all of you are my prisoner. How do you escape?" he asked.

Leo eyed the pile of wands at Alexander's feet. "We need to get our wands."

Alexander raised his boot above the pile of wands threateningly and looked expectantly at them.

"We need to get him away from them first. We need a distraction," Douglas said.

James fell from where he sat and began groaning. "Ah, my side. My side hurts so bad. Help me."

Alexander rolled his eyes as he approached. "You need to work on your acting," he said, before lashing out with a vicious kick into James' side. "You also need to remember that the Death Eaters are not going to be kind. So what do you need to do?"

Privately, Alexander was surprised and pleased by the sudden kick to his knee that Theodora lashed out with, especially since it was hard enough to drop him flat on his back. James and Peggy wrapped their legs around his arms, pulling them out and away from their bodies. Douglas and Mina ran to the pile of wands, awkwardly cutting the bindings from behind their back. To add suspense to the situation, Alexander fired a few curses from his rebar wand into the air, to remind them he still had it.

"Point it away, you stupid bastard," Theodora ordered James. He awkwardly tried to shift Alexander's wand away with his legs.

Douglas and Mina stood over Alexander's head, their wands glowing with red energy and pointed at his eyes. He looked them squarely back in the eye. "This is the moment," Alexander softly whispered, "where you need to act. You cannot wait; you cannot hesitate. If you have a Death Eater at your mercy, you cannot give them any."

Their eyes steeled, and they raised their wands, their mouths moving with the beginning of the Stunning Charm. Alexander flicked his rebar wand, still in his grasp, and sent all eight of the witches and wizards flying back with a non-verbal bludgeoning charm. Eight groans could be heard a moment later.

"Good effort," Alexander said as he rose, dusting himself off. "You all made the mistake of letting me keep my wand. As you might have noticed, wizards become useless without their wands. If you can take it, you can kill them."

He turned toward James, who was trying to cough out all the sand he had inhaled. "James, my wand hand was within reach of your mouth. If you're ever in that position again, sink your teeth into my wrist. Don't awkwardly rub your legs up and down my arm in the hope of restraining me, as you can tell it didn't work."

"Still, good effort overall, everyone. We'll try again tomorrow."

Eight groans answered him, making Alexander smile.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander never considered sharing his many secrets with his fellow Muggle-born, not a single one. Each was far too dangerous to be shared, and while wandless magic would no doubt have served them well in their efforts, Alexander knew they would not be able to learn it proficiently in a timely manner. Instead, he would teach them to be dangerous with their minds and their bodies.

It wasn't easy, but slowly they began to work as a team, using simple spells to cause devastating effects. Individually they weren't magical powerhouses or combatants, but for how Alexander intended to use them, they didn't need to be. They just needed to be enough.

The next two months passed by quickly, a mixture of training combined with rescue attempts in the non-magical world. They got more and more Muggle-born out of the country each week, helping as many as they could. Every once in a while, Alexander would go into Diagon Alley disguised to buy a newspaper, keeping up with the news. The first time he found something amusing.

"Rogue Mudblood At Large, Undesirable Fifteen," Alexander read the article's title out loud one evening. Underneath it was a sketch of himself, scars and all. Alexander threw the newspaper at a grinning Oscar, who immediately began to read it out loud to the group as they ate dinner.

"Alexander Dantes, known Muggle-born, escaped lawful custody in September and is wanted for questioning concerning the razing of Azkaban and Welsh Campsite 1234, blah-blah-blah. I see they're no longer calling it the Mudblood Relocation Camp. Anyway, Dantes is dangerous, and all sightings should be reported to the Auror Office post-haste. He is the Fifteenth individual to be named Undesirable, and the second youngest, after Harry Potter. The rest of the article is about Potter."

"Better you than me," Douglas said, rubbing his tired face with his hand. His arm was in a sling after James had broken it during training that day.

"Still don't know why you won't let us use our names when we're out," James muttered angrily from beside Douglas. Alexander gave him a hard stare.

"Because of things exactly like this article. As of right now, the only name the Death Eaters have is mine. This is not a time for ego. We need to remain focused on helping as many people as we can, for as long as we can," Alexander said. James frowned but didn't reply.

"This drawing looks nothing like you," Mina said, turning the newspaper sideways. "Maybe they were drawing a particularly ugly baboon."

"Looks more like a dog's butt to me," Oscar said. His father gently decked his head. "Yeesh, old man, relax."

Leo smirked at his son. "You should be more respectful to the man who can curse you six ways to Sunday. Besides, the drawing looks a damn sight better than you."

"I take after you in looks, dad. What does that say about you?"

"Why, you!"

The father and son engaged in a brief scuffle, wrestling around the campfire. Mina absently stepped backward, avoiding the tumbling men, as she added more wood to the fire.

Leo finally managed to put his son into a headlock. "Help, man down!" Oscar cried.

"Then why is he still standing?" Peggy snarked, her arms wrapped around Theodora.

"Because I'm a," Oscar struggled with his father for a moment, "paragon of strength."

"You're a wizard, act like one," Alexander said, helping himself to tonight's stew. It was just what he needed after a long day. The two men finally separated.

"You're no fun, Dantes. Granted, if half of what I heard about at Hogwarts is true, I'm not surprised by that," Oscar said, moving back to the fire.

"That's right, you're only a year older than him," Leo said, joining his son. "Did you two cross paths before?"

Despite how innocent of a question that was, Alexander still gave the two men a blank look. Oscar gave him a grin.

"Not really. I was in Gryffindor. But we've all heard of Alexander Dantes, the black sheep of Ravenclaw. Rumor has it that he moved out of Ravenclaw Tower, not that anybody knows where he went. So, where did you go, Dantes?" Oscar asked. The rest of the group looked at him in curiosity.

Alexander slowing ate his stew, enjoying the simple taste. He threw the transfigured wooden bowl into the fire once he was done, and looked Oscar in the eye. "Hogwarts is full of empty rooms. It's very easy to carve out your own space."

Oscar leaned forward. "Yeah, but I've also heard of the other rumors. That the reason why you left Ravenclaw Tower was that you and Granger had a fling and that you were yearning for her. Any truth in that rumor?"

Alexander was displeased with how attentive everyone else was to his answer, but realized with such a small group such intense interest was unavoidable. They had no one else to talk to, so of course, they'd be interested in one another. He sighed.

"No, Granger and I did not have a fling. Do you remember the end of your second year, how the Ravenclaws, Robert Hilliard and Henry Duny, were expelled for cheating on their NEWT's?" Alexander asked.

Oscar's brow furrowed. "Vaguely, what does that have to do with anything?"

"I left Ravenclaw Tower because those two boys, and their friends, spent the better part of my first-year torturing me every night. It only stopped once I moved out and warded up my own little safe spot in the castle."

"But you were eleven, why would they care about you?" Cassandra asked.

"Why do the Death Eaters care about us? Because we're Muggle-born. Duny and Hilliard tortured me because no one would give a damn about some upstart Mudblood. But I guess they weren't expecting me to fight back."

"What did you do?" Leo asked.

"I got them expelled for cheating on their NEWT's," Alexander said. The group was stunned.

"As a first-year?" Douglas asked incredulously. The others echoed similar statements.

"Yes," Alexander stared into the fire for a long, quiet moment. "I suppose they had the last laugh, though."

"Why do you say that?" Theodora asked.

"Because four years later, they showed up at my house and murdered my family." Alexander stood. "Sometimes, I wonder if my family would still be alive if I hadn't spared those two. Guess I'll never know."

And with that, Alexander went to bed.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN:

Attacking with magic over a distance: I'm not too eager for this to be honest. Because magicals can Apparate/Portkey/fly, I think they would use that to move into closer range for more accuracy. Combined with how refined the "art" of dueling is, I would think most magicals think of combat as a close to medium range concept (although not melee). But a magical sniper rifle/long distance bomb? I think it would run counter to their thinking.

I do think spells "fizzle" out after a certain range. Perhaps the magic becomes unstable and the spell unravels, or it just fades into the background magic. Of the two, I'm leaning toward the former, although I don't think a true magical cannon (long distance attack) will be created in this story for a long while. I do love the idea that a Death Star laser is just a giant Avada Kedavra, but since I don't intend for this story to ever cross over with Star Wars, that won't be explored.

And no, combining a wand with a gun will not be happening. The only reasonable combination I've ever seen are wands and daggers but I don't believe that will be in this story either.

I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	24. Year 7 Part 7

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

"Today, we'll be setting the first trap," Alexander said. It was just before dawn, and all were asleep, save him.

"Please be safe, Alex," Daphne said from the tablet in his hands. It was his latest version, capable of connecting remotely to the other tablets and accessing their contents, but it also had a new security feature, one he would soon add to others: It exploded if anyone except him or Daphne used them.

"There's nothing to be worried about," Alexander reassured her. "We're being extra cautious. M and C showed me how to connect a portkey to my physical status. If I'm stunned, it will pull me to safety."

"Or killed. I know how those spells work," Daphne scolded. "I wish you could tell me who everyone was."

"You know why I can't, Daphne," Alexander said.

She sighed. "I know, I know. Operational security or whatever muggle nonsense it is."

Alexander gave her a wry smile. "That muggle nonsense is going to keep your boyfriend alive."

"It better," she warned with a mocking glare. Despite the situation, they both smiled in fond amusement at one another. "I need to get ready for classes; the Carrows are absolutely horrible to everyone."

"Can you arrange an accident?" Alexander asked perfectly serious. Daphne shook her head.

"Not with Snape as the headmaster. It feels like he's always stalking the corridors, putting students into detention. Longbottom tried some sort of rebellion, but he disappeared, no one's seen him in a week. I don't know if he's dead."

Longbottom. Gryffindor. Alexander didn't know him, but he hoped the boy was okay somewhere. It was unlikely though, given the circumstances.

"Keep practicing your wandless magic," Alexander told her. "And try to get Astoria to as well."

"I'll try, but she's almost too scared to even go to classes. I'll talk to you soon, Alex," Daphne said. She blew him a kiss before the tablet's image faded, leaving it blank.

Alexander stroked the spot where her lips were, before shrinking it and putting it in his pocket.

Exiting his small stone hut, he was surprised to find Cassandra at the fire, using magic to help her bake bread. His stomach gurgling, he joined her, taking a fresh roll and biting into it hungrily.

They were silent as they ate, but no one else seemed eager to leave the comfort of their rest to join them yet. So they sat in companionable silence, enjoying the cold morning air, and the warmth of the low fire before them.

As Alexander looked at the flames, he thought about the rest of his group, his fellow Muggle-born. Douglas Jacobs was easy to figure out; the man had lost his wife and daughter on Platform Nine and Three Quarters to the Aurors. He had gone on a rampage, injuring several Aurors before they arrested and tried him.

Mina Finkton had graduated from Hogwarts before returning to the non-magical world, going to college to study electronics and technology. She had all sorts of fascinating theories on the nature of magic, and Alexander spent many nights with her talking about the possible applications. She had been picked up by Aurors in Diagon Alley because she had wanted to get more books from the stores there.

Leo Howards had a different, tragic tale. Death Eaters had killed his non-magical wife, and when he had gone to report the crime, he was arrested for her murder. His son Oscar had tried to help him escape, only to also be arrested.

Theodora and Peggy were married, not that any government or religion would acknowledge that. Theodora worked at the joke shop in Hogsmeade, and one day she saw an Auror cut down a child. She tried to help the boy but was arrested. Peggy was arrested when she killed the Auror arresting her wife, and mortally wounding another.

James and his girlfriend were arrested and thrown into the Mudblood Relocation Camp in a sweep. While there, he was forced to watch as the "guards" tortured and murdered her. They left him in a locked room with her body for a day before finally dragging him out. Alexander felt a certain amount of kinship with the older man, and it did explain his violent tendencies.

But it was the last member of their group he knew the least about. So he would ask her.

"Why did you kill that Death Eater, Cassandra?" Alexander asked softly. There was no need for him to specify which one.

She wrapped her arms around her knees, resting her head on them as she stared into the fire. Alexander couldn't help but notice the differences in their body language, how she physically closed herself off to the world around her.

"I worked at St. Mungo's as a brewer. We go through so many potions in a day; there is an entire floor filled with nothing but cauldrons. I'm a half-blood, but it's good work, I can help people every day.

"One day, when I got off my shift, I was walking through the halls. A witch had just given birth, and her husband, a muggle, was with her. It's always so nice seeing a new family greet one another for the first time. I just had to stop and watch..." She trailed off, with pain-filled eyes.

"I suppose it was unlucky that they brought a new life in the world, the day the Dark Lord took over. The Aurors raided the hospital, and they searched every room. The moment they discovered that child's father was a muggle they," Cassandra trailed off, unable to finish.

"And then what happened?" Alexander asked after she collected herself. She drew in a deep breath before letting it go to continue.

"They killed all three of them. It was a mindless waste, completely uncalled for. They weren't a danger to anyone! But they did it anyway. So I lost it."

A dangerous smirk graced Cassandra's face. "I'm a brewer, and all brewers carry prepared potions on them. It's in case of emergencies, you see. Well, some of those potions don't react well with one another, quite corrosively, in fact, and none of those Aurors were prepared to be splattered with them.

"When they finally dragged me away, four Aurors were dissolving in acid beneath my feet. And I don't regret it one bit."

Unknown to Alexander or Cassandra, the others had awoken while they spoke and had listened in. Slowly, one by one, they came over and rested a comforting hand on Cassandra's shoulders, letting her know that she wasn't alone.

Alexander was the last to place his hand on her, and he was not ashamed of the tears that fell from his eyes. "They're going to pay, Cassandra. Even if I have to tear the world apart to do it."

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander sat by a campfire, poking it with a stick. Once he was pleased with the condition of the fire, he stood up and dusted his hands off. "Voldemort," he clearly intoned.

The clearing he was in rapidly filled by six witches and wizards who Apparated in with a pop. They quickly pointed their wands at Alexander.

"Oh look, some Death Eaters," Alexander said.

"We're not Death Eaters; we're Snatchers, and we've snatched you," one man said, a vicious grin on his face. "Hand over your wand or else."

Alexander couldn't help grinning back. "Color me curious, what's the else?"

"You don't want to know," the man said nastily. The other Snatchers laughed. Alexander sighed in disappointment.

"Well, if you insist," Alexander said. He clenched his left fist.

Spells rained from the trees around the clearing, smashing into the Snatchers violently. Some lost limbs in bloody sprays, going down with screams. Others were more fortunate, cutting curses giving them a bloody but comparably less painful death. But the apparent leader was Alexander's, and he didn't hesitate to act.

Earthen hands sprang out of the ground, grabbing the man's ankles. They were dragged in opposite directions, sending the man to the ground where more hands began to trap him. An errant gesture made one of the hands break the Snatcher's wand.

By the time Alexander stepped forward, he was joined by his fellow Muggle-born, who all wore varying expressions of shock or determination. He held up a hand to stop James from killing the Snatcher he imprisoned, and the angry young man held himself back, barely. Alexander poked his prisoner with a finger and was answered with a groan.

"What are Snatchers?" Alexander asked, his eyes focused. He privately approved of his fellow Muggle-borns, as they went around, collecting wands and making sure the downed witches and wizards were dead.

"We're supposed to catch Muggle-borns," the man gasped in pain, "as well as anyone who says Volde-."

Alexander's fingers gripped the man's face tightly, preventing him from finishing his sentence. "You might want to mind your tongue, or else."

"You should listen to him. I watched him rip a man's tongue out once," James added helpfully. The man gulped as well as he could with his mouth restrained as it was.

"What happens to those you catch," Alexander asked, releasing his prisoner's mouth.

The Snatcher eyed him cautiously but seemed to think better than trying to trigger the Taboo again. "Sometimes they're taken to the courts. But most of the time, the Snatchers are paid for each wand and head we turn in," he answered reluctantly.

Alexander smiled. "I thought so. Now be honest, and I will be able to tell if you lie, if we hadn't fought back, would we be dead?"

"Why would I tell you, you're going to kill me anyway?"

"You have my solemn vow that I will not kill you if you answer me honestly," Alexander promised. James shifted beside him, opening his mouth to speak, but Alexander silenced him with a look.

"You'd be dead," the man on the ground whispered. Alexander patted his cheek approvingly.

"There, that wasn't so hard. Silencio," Alexander said, silencing the man. "So who didn't kill one?"

"Leo, Theodora, and I," Cassandra said.

"And you've already killed one. So, who wants to kill this one?" Alexander asked. The Snatcher began to struggle frantically on the ground. "Oh, don't worry! I told you, I wasn't going to kill you. Someone else is."

"Wish it was me," James growled, pushing his boot into the Snatcher's neck.

"I'll do it," Leo said. He moved over and stood over the Snatcher's head. He hesitated.

"You can do it, dad," Oscar said encouragingly. His face was splattered with blood, but he looked determined. "Do it for mom."

His son's words hardened something within him, and Leo raised his wand. James moved out of the way, leaving the Snatcher's neck clear. A flash of red light later, and it was over.

"Good job, everybody. Theodora, my order still stands. Our enemy wears another face, and we cannot let up. These Snatchers must be plucked if our people are to survive. Now everybody get back to camp and pack up. We're going to move after every ambush," Alexander ordered. James narrowed his eyes.

"Don't you mean, we need to get back to camp?" James asked. Alexander shrugged.

"In a bit. I want to leave a message for when they inevitably investigate. It'll make a bit of a mess, I'm afraid. There's no need for you all to stick around for that."

The group shared a significant look. "Theodora and I will go back and start tearing down the camp," Peggy said. "I'm not comfortable with what you intend to do."

"Go with them, Oscar," Leo ordered his son. Oscar immediately protested, but his father silenced him with a single, raised hand. "Your mother is already never going to forgive me, God rest her soul. Please, son."

Oscar lost all protest. He nodded before turning, apparating away without a word. Peggy and Theodora followed soon after.

"Good. I want to carve something in each Snatcher's chest and then tie them to those trees over there," Alexander said, pointing to the edge of the clearing.

"What do you want us to carve?" Douglas asked.

"Mudblood Brigade."

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

They laid another trap three days later. Theodora proved herself, killing two of the Snatchers. The real prize was the Death Eater that accompanied the group, who managed to defend himself. Douglas distracted the man with a fantastic display of transfigured nails, allowing Alexander to cut the Death Eater's legs out from underneath him, literally. Another curse removed the man's wand arm.

"Three of you, carve our name in the dead's chests. The rest of you go pack up camp. Cassandra, see what you can do about Mina's broken arm," Alexander quickly ordered. Peggy, Theodora, Leo, and Oscar immediately apparated back to camp.

"What are you going to do with him?" James asked as he carved Mudblood Brigade into a dead Snatcher's chest.

Alexander smashed his boot into the Death Eaters' face, bending the mask and breaking the jaw underneath. The man screamed at the new pain. "Nothing I need him to talk for," he explained, rolling up the man's left sleeve.

The Dark Mark burned angrily on the man's flesh. Alexander began to poke the skin around it, examining the area magically. The Death Eater tried to struggle, pushing his arm toward Alexander's wand, but Alexander had enough. With a quick curse, the Death Eater was missing his last limb.

"Tear apart his body with wolves, James," Alexander ordered. A few moments later, more screams filled the air, but Alexander didn't pay them any attention. Despite being detached from the Death Eater's body, the Dark Mark showed no signs of fading.

It took Alexander a few moments to realize that the Dark Mark was actually a piece of soul magic. It wasn't a soul by any stretch of the imagination, more of an imprint of someone else's soul. It seemed to pull toward some far off location, and at a constant rate. Death Eaters, it seemed, would always know where their lord was.

There also seemed to be a curse interwoven with it. A variable pain spell, one that could be changed at a whim. It seemed to only last for a small span of time, but it would undoubtedly be attention-grabbing. Alexander wondered if it was part of a messenger component.

Suddenly, the mark faded. Looking up, Alexander saw that the Death Eater it was once attached to had died, a transfigured wolf gnawing on his head. Casting a few more spells at the arm in his hand, Alexander memorized the results before throwing the limb to the wolves.

"Find anything interesting?" Cassandra asked. Before Alexander could respond, the group was alarmed by rustling bushes, and all pointed their wands toward them.

Out of the bushes walked three figures, all of whom Alexander recognized to some degree. Lee Jordan was a very notable figure around Hogwarts after all, and even someone like Alexander could recognize him. The next two, however, Alexander only knew in passing, and only since the end of his sixth year.

"Hey, Shack. If you're here for the Death Eater, he had a small accident," Alexander said with a devil-like grin. The third person, the woman who fought with Alexander and Shack at Hogwarts, eyed him warily.

"My name is Kingsley Shacklebolt, and I think we should talk," Shack said, his voice deep and reassuring. He eyed the blood-soaked clearing and pile of body parts strewn around the clearing with disdain. "Preferably elsewhere."

Alexander nodded. "Sure. Let's go to our camp."

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: Huh, reading this back I realize that I never wrote Alexander and Daphne making up. Let's just assume it happened off screen because I'm not going to write a filler chapter for it. Maybe a one shot one day, but to be honest, I'm not really bothered by it.

Everyone's tragic backstory: I tried to make them as diverse as possible. Some are Half-bloods, most are Muggle-born, none are Pure-blood. I figured that if the Weasley's, known Dumbledore and Potter supporters, aren't arrested in canon (wards or not) then they wouldn't be in this story. After all, they're not the Death Eater's "enemy", like the Muggle-born and Muggles are.

Mina Finkton: Just wanted to show that not all Muggle-borns were incurious about magic and modern technology mixing. Considering the location of Diagon Alley, The Ministry of Magic, and St. Mungo's is in the heart of London, and the city doesn't experience black outs, I think it's safe to claim magic doesn't stop technology from working. The real issue, I would think, is that you don't turn runes and enchantments "off", that once they're powered you cannot change them. Which is contradictory for technology. There are definite avenues where magic and technology can be blended together for a lot of interesting things. Which leads to...

Magic and Guns: If you really think about it, a gun really isn't that great of a weapon. It's reliant on ammo to be deadly, needs to be reloaded and cleaned constantly, needs training to handle properly, etc. And say you magic all those problems away, you're basically firing an unending stream of lead, that chases your enemies down to kill them. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for ridiculoius/OP/over the top uses of magic, but even that's kind of absurd to me. Voldemort and his army of Death Eaters could have been killed by a twelve year old during the Final Battle in that case, and that'd be hugely unsatisfying to read.

I'm far more interested in the idea of a magical rail gun, although the question would be "Why make it?" The weapons/combat style you fight with (and the ones I use in the story) need an appropriate enemy to fight against. A Humanity F*ck Yeah/Magic F*ck Yeah story needs a decent enemy, if you can just mow down an army in a second, why would they even be considered a threat?

Which leads to another possibility, and one I can't possibly do in this story: Both sides use the same technology/methods. Pure-bloods view the muggle world and their technologies with contempt (or grossly misunderstand their purpose, like Arthur Weasley), I can't have Voldemort suddenly conjuring RPG's to hand out to his Death Eaters. Voldemort summoning a demonic army would be a suitable counter, but that'd be breaking canon, which is what I'm trying not to do.

So no, no magiced revolver that can auto-aim, snipe giants from the moon, and give the wielder a back massage.

I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	25. Year 7 Part 8

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Alexander and Kingsley sat across from one another, sizing each other up from across the fire. Lee Jordan and the unnamed woman stood behind Kingsley, flanking him with their wands in hand. Their caution was warranted, considering that the Mudblood Brigade stood around them all in a loose circle, with watchful eyes and wands drawn.

"I don't know if you recall meeting me at Hogwarts a few months ago," Alexander said, breaking the silence, "but my name is Alexander Dantes."

If Kingsley was bothered by Alexander not introducing anyone else, he didn't show it. "Well met Alexander," he said with a polite nod. "As I said earlier, my name is Kingsley Shacklebolt. There is much for us to discuss."

"Indeed." Alexander let the word hang in there, enjoying how the woman behind Kingsley glared at him. "Jordan, I didn't think you were a Mudblood."

Kingsley's trio frowned at that. "I'm not," Lee Jordan said.

"That's not a word you should use so casually," the woman warned. Alexander couldn't help smirking at her, drawing chuckles from his group.

"Why not? It is what I am. It's what my enemy hates and fears and murders," Alexander said. "Who here, is a Mudblood?"

A handful of hands rose, including Alexander's own. "Now, who here thinks Mudbloods should be allowed to live?" he said, raising his other hand. The hands of the rest of his group rose, and even Lee Jordan raised his hand half-heartedly.

Alexander chuckled, lowering his hands. "I chose the name of my group very carefully. I want the Death Eaters to know who is coming for them."

Kingsley frowned. "Yes, your repeated murders. You should be more careful before you draw the wrong attention."

"The wrong," Alexander drew out the word, "attention."

"Yes." Kinglsey nodded, his deep voice rumbling. "The Death Eaters could make things very difficult for your group."

Alexander considered Kingsley for a long moment, judging by how series he was by that statement. To his surprise, the ex-Auror was entirely serious, and Alexander couldn't help but begin to laugh at the sheer stupidity of his statement.

Alexander paid no mind to the look of offended anger that crossed the trio's face. He just kept laughing and laughing, clutching his sides as his mirth overflowed. His laughter was the only thing heard above the crackling of the fire, much to the unease of everyone. He finally calmed down.

"Oh, Kingsley," Alexander wiped a tear from his eye, "I didn't know you were such a joker."

"I'm entirely serious," was the firm reply. Kingsley's jaw was tight.

"And so am I," Alexander said, his mirth disappointing in an instant. His magic began to stir under his skin, razor-sharp, and begging to be released. He ruthlessly brought it under control. "We will not stop killing Death Eaters, Snatchers, and anyone foolish enough to keep parroting Pure-blood propaganda."

Kingsley grew alarmed at that. "We must remain calm. We cannot go around killing everyone who disagrees with us. We need to have a society after this is all over to rebuild."

"Ha! Why would I want this society to survive? Pure-bloods in power, oppressing Muggle-borns and Half-bloods, murdering them? Getting out of jail on account of their blood and money? How the hell do you consider that a society worth saving?"

"It has its downsides, I will not argue against that, but we should not delve into violence," Kingsley protested. "We must band together if we are to survive these troubled times."

"J!" Alexander barked, causing James to step forward. "Why did the Death Eaters kill your fiance?"

"Because she was a Mudblood."

"C!" Cassandra stepped forward, closer to Alexander. "Why did the Death Eaters kill that family?"

"Because the father was a muggle," Cassandra spat.

"D!" Douglas moved, standing across from James. "Why did the Death Eaters kill your family?"

"Because my wife was a Half-blood."

Alexander glared across the fire at the shell-shocked trio. "Muggle-born, Muggle, Half-blood. You hate one word but fail to recognize those three are all just as insulting. Every time a Pure-blood says one, they are really saying lesser being, and nobody acknowledges that."

"No, that's not it at all," Kingsley tried to protest. "They're worried that the Muggle-born can be a threat to the safety and stability of our world."

"The Pure-bloods contolled over ninety percent of our government before the Dark Lord supposedly conquered it. There was not a single Muggle-born on the Wizengamot. Pure-bloods had preferred hiring status, get out of Azkaban free cards, connections before they even started Hogwarts. What threat were the Muggle-born to them?" Peggy asked, speaking for the first time that night.

"Well, you outnumber them, and they were worried-" Kingsley started to say.

"So that excuses the torture and murder of children? Of withholding their education? Snapping their wands?" Leo demanded, cutting him off.

Kinglsey raised a placating hand. "Now, I admit that this year is especially bad, but there were concerns that with the increase of Muggle-borns into the Wizarding World, they'd bring with them muggle ideas! That they'd destroy the Wizarding World."

Mina stepped forward, disgusted with him. "They're so terrified of losing power that they're unwilling to teach their new immigrants? That they refuse to change? And you sit here and defend them to us? Whose side are you on?"

"I'm on the side that saves the Wizarding World from bloodshed," Kingsley tried to counter firmly.

Alexander scoffed. "Hundreds of Muggle-born are dead, with more being found and tortured every day, along with their families! Blood is being spilled, and you dare tell me you want to spare the Wizarding World from bloodshed? How many have you saved in this war?" Alexander demanded.

"We've managed to help a handful of families, but they're difficult to move successfully these days," Kingsley said with false modesty.

"Oh, a few families? Hey, T! How many families did we escort out of the country this week?"

"Forty-two." Was the instant reply, causing Kingsley's group to drop their jaws in shock.

"This month?" Alexander asked again.

"Two hundred and one."

Alexander never let his gaze leave Kingsley's shocked eyes. "And how many Death Eaters and Snatchers have you killed this month? Everybody!"

"Six."

"Seven."

"Four."

"Eight."

"Six."

"Five."

"Eleven."

"Eighteen," Alexander finished, watching the blood drain from the faces across from him. "Now answer me this, Kingsley. How many have you killed? How many of these monsters have you removed from this world?"

Kingsley swallowed but narrowed his eyes. "None," he said proudly. "I refuse to stoop to their level."

"How nice it must be, to be that idealistic. To be able to wash the blood of innocents off your hands. To pretend that everyday lives aren't being lost because you refuse to act."

Silence fell over the campsite as the two groups looked at one another. Kingsley's trio was tense, suddenly aware that they were surrounded by killers, while Alexander's group was almost relaxed in comparison, although no less focused.

"We're leaving," Kingsley said, rising. "I think we have very different ideas on how peace should be achieved."

"Yes," Alexander agreed. "I prefer a lasting one."

As Kingsley's group moved out of the camp, to Apparate away, Alexander called out one last time. "And Shacklebolt? If a Death Eater patrol raids us, I'll know it was you, and I will not rest until I have your skull as my trophy."

Kingsley gave Alexander a hard, angry look, but nodded anyway. He vanished into the darkness.

The moment that Alexander confirmed they were gone, he turned to others. "Pack your things. We're leaving."

Such was their trust in him that no one hesitated. Theodora approached him, using her wand to remove all evidence of the fire at his feet. "You don't trust him? I may not like him, but he's one of the good ones."

"Good or not, everyone breaks. Besides, I don't like someone knowing where we are," Alexander explained. Theodora nodded and moved to help her wife pack their belongings.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

Despite his desire otherwise, Alexander and the Mudblood Brigade didn't lay any more traps for Death Eaters for a month. The winter Holidays made them work harder at rescuing Muggle-born and their families, trying to make sure that as many families had a safe Christmas.

The stress they were all under made things tense, and tempers were shorter than usual. Every other day Alexander had to break up petty fights from between the other men and women, and it was growing worse for them all. Finally, it reached a breaking point.

It was only a few days before Christmas. Their group had apparated onto a street near the coast, intent on rescuing the Muggle-born family who lived there. What they arrived at was a scene of horror.

Bodies lay all over the street, partly decomposed. There were holes and burn marks spotting the homes, signs of spellfire. But worse was the family they were there to rescue, nailed in a parody of a cross, to the tree in their front yard. The worst was the body of a small girl, her eyes wide with terror, but empty of life.

It was an unfortunate part of their line of work. Far too often, they arrived too late to save the families they sought. At best, those victims had a quick death, but that was usually not the case. The Death Eaters and their ilk were not kind murderers.

But as Alexander looked into that dead girl's eyes, he felt the dam that held his emotions in check break. "Get under cover," Alexander ordered. The Mudblood Brigade quickly dove behind fences and cars, hunkering down with their wands at the ready.

Alexander stood in the middle of the street; his rebar wand clutched tightly in his hand. He pointed it at the ground, carving deep runes into the road, empowering them a moment later. Finally, he was ready.

"Voldemort."

The street was silent for a single heartbeat, just long enough for Alexander to appreciate the quiet rustling of the waves in the distance. Six pops, from in front of him, alerted Alexander that his targets had arrived.

He didn't give them time to say anything. Instead, his wand shot forward violently, almost like a dagger. Sharp green light shot out, smashing into the ground before their feet. The spell shook the earth, creating a minor earthquake and causing the group of Snatchers to lose their footing. One of them fell on some of the runes Alexander had carved.

The runes flashed, just long enough for the wizard to realize the danger he was in. He opened his mouth to shout a warning but the runes exploded from underneath him, sending out shards of rock in every direction. The man was shredded to pieces, and the rest of the Snatchers were gravely injured.

Alexander offered no quarter, hurling cutting curses at them furiously. The battered witches and wizards could offer no defense and were quickly cut down.

"Holy shit," Oscar muttered from the bushes. None of the Mudblood Brigade had been prepared for the suddenness of Alexander's attack.

"Voldemort!" Alexander shouted again.

"Get ready," Cassandra ordered, and the next group of Snatchers apparated in.

These ones seemed marginally more competent than their predecessors, able to deflect the first few curses that Alexander threw at them. Unfortunately for them, they weren't expecting the rest of the Mudblood Brigade to appear, cutting them down from the sides.

"VOLDEMORT!" Alexander roared, his chest heaving.

"Not again," someone muttered.

The group that appeared this time was larger than both of the previous ones put together and was accompanied by two figures wearing skull masks. Chaos descended upon the street.

Spells flashed through the air, destructive and punishing. The runic traps flashed underneath the feet of the Snatchers, activating with deadly blasts. One of the explosions blew the mask off one of the Death Eaters, revealing Rookwood.

James roared, leaping from his cover. Curses flew from his wand, smashing into everything in front of him without rhyme or reason. The young man ran down the street, eyes burning hatefully as he stared down Rookwood, who was watching his approach curiously.

"Get back in cover, J!" Alexander ordered. James paid him no mind. Alexander cursed as he was forced to duck a killing curse. "J!"

James and Rookwood began to trade curses, ignoring the destruction they wrought around them. Rookwood deflected a spell, paying no attention to the fact that it smashed into a Snatcher's face, killing them instantly. James was no better, throwing out so many spells, he almost killed Mina with a stray Cutting Curse.

"Dantes!" Peggy shouted over the fighting. "We need to get out of here!"

Alexander paid her no mind, he wanted these bastards dead just as much as James did. He managed to banish a Snatcher into another, causing both to land on one of his rune traps. They died in a messy explosion.

Unfortunately, the blast alerted Rookwood of the danger beneath his feet. He began to move carefully to the side, dodging curses and keeping James focused on him. James, so focused in his blood rage, matched him pace for pace and stepped onto one of Alexander's traps.

James screamed as his legs were blasted from underneath him, shredded to pieces. Rookwood disarmed him a moment later and stepped forward to secure him.

Clarity returned to Alexander's mind. His recklessness had endangered his entire group, had caused James to be gravely injured. He needed to fix this, but he didn't know how.

A small group of Snatchers formed up around Rookwood, surrounding James, who lay pitifully on the ground. The second Death Eater was dead, or at least Alexander assumed that considering the fact that his head was detached from his body. And suddenly, Alexander knew what to do.

"Retreat," he ordered the Mudblood Brigade. They had formed up around him when he wasn't paying attention.

"But James," Peggy began. Alexander cut her off.

"I'll handle it. Just get back to camp and get ready to run the moment I arrive," Alexander ordered.

"But we can help," Cassandra whispered.

"No. I'll handle it. Now go."

The Mudblood Brigade did so, vanishing with a pop. Alexander glared at the remaining eight witches and wizards, eyeing them with contempt, but it was the figure at their feet that held his gaze. James, bloody and broken, lay gasping there with blood bubbling on his lips. He reached out feebly to Alexander, and one of the Snatchers ground their boot into his hand, causing him to scream.

"I know your face," Rookwood said, stepping closer. "You're the Mudblood."

"Come now, Death Eater. Surely we're above calling one another names?" Alexander asked, stepping closer to their group, but also the dead Death Eater.

Rookwood shrugged, moving away from the safety of his group fully. "Dantes, then. Who's your friend on the ground?"

"Soon to be dead if he's not healed," Alexander could see that James could hear him. James gave Alexander a desperate, pleading look.

"Oh, don't worry about that, let's talk about you," Rookwood said. He didn't seem bothered to be stepping through puddles of blood, or over dead bodies. "Are these rune traps yours?"

Alexander finally stopped moving, standing over the corpse of the dead Death Eater. He sunk his magic into the corpse and began to weave the enchantments he needed. "They are."

"Fascinating," Rookwood also stopped. "I know they're not teaching that at Hogwarts, so where did you find them?"

"I made them," Alexander couldn't help the small, proud smile that graced his lips. "J, you still alive?"

"Yes," was the weak reply, blood still coming from his lips.

"He needs help," Alexander said. Rookwood said nothing, only looking at him calmly as if he was trying to solve a puzzle. Alexander sighed, "I see. Right-hand red!"

Alexander's shout confused the gathered Pure-bloods, but James understood. After all, Twister was a very popular game for young men and women.

James slammed his fist into the ground next to him, right on top of one of the last rune traps left on the ground. It exploded violently, killing James instantly and shredding the remaining Snatchers. Rookwood instinctively turned, distracted, and Alexander activated the magic at his feet.

He had spent years in a room formerly belonging to a student who explored Necromancy in the 1800s. The student had gone as far as to kill and reanimate a centaur, permanently souring relations between wizards and the beasts, before his creation killed him. He had left behind a wealth of knowledge that Alexander had eagerly absorbed.

A creature the size of a dog burst out of the body of the Death Eater at Alexander's feet. It was all bones, blood, and muscle, and it lacked anything that resembled a head or eyes. But it didn't need to see while Alexander could direct it.

It lunged forward faster than any man. It was upon Rookwood in an instant, clawing the man with razor-sharp claws and making beastly sounds.

Despite the suddenness of the attack, Rookwood acted without hesitation. He banished the Bone-beast, for that's what Alexander had created, back and threw up spells to protect himself. Alexander immediately began to test those defenses, with his creation and spells, to try to find a weakness.

Rookwood eyed his slashed arm, the flesh already turning a nasty green. "And you know the basics of Necromancy. The Dark Lord would be most interested in you."

"Unfortunately for the Dark Lord, I have no interest in working with a man who wishes me to die," Alexander said. His Bone-beast shrieked as it suddenly caught fire, the magic of Rookwood's protections overwhelming it. Alexander let it collapse into a pile of blood and bone in disgust.

"A shame. You could be a great boon to his forces," Rookwood said, casting a spell to reverse the necrosis Alexander's beast had inflicted. "Instead, you chose to be a threat to our society, how dreadful."

Alexander gave him a nasty smile. "I will be more than a threat, of that I can guarantee."

Rookwood smiled. "We'll see." And with that, the man's body turned into that black smoke he had used last time, his protections collapsing in an instant. Alexander immediately sent spells into the smoke but to no avail. They passed through harmlessly.

Before Rookwood could speed off, Alexander began to cast diagnostic spells, to try to find out as much information as he could. Rookwood's cloud seemed to indulge him with an air of amusement before it swept away almost lazily. Alexander could almost hear the mocking edge of his laughter fade into the wind.

Filled with disgust, anger, and loss, Alexander apparated away.

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

AN: Mudblood Squad sounds like a crappy superhero team. Mudblood Brigade sounds like someone fighting a war. That's why I chose the name.

Potion bombs/poisons: As interesting as it would be, it doesn't happen considering the mechanics involved. (And Mina is more of a researcher, interested in the why of magic, while Cassandra focuses on healing potions/salves). The Rune traps are basically the extent of it, because you can carve them on almost anything, and charge them. (there are restrictions to this, but you wouldn't try to hold up a mountain with a strand of hair anyway, so it's moot.)

Guns: They're not going to have guns. If you want a story where a bunch of wizards decide to forgo their strongest weapon (magic), to use something as limited as a gun, write it yourself. I won't be addressing this further.

The clothes they wear: They're all wearing muggle clothing, as that's far more practical to running around in the "wilds" of Britain than robes.

If it wasn't obvious by my writing, I don't enjoy writing out useless details, of which character descriptions usually are. Part of it is reader immersion, I would prefer if you filled in the blanks for yourself, but I also strongly dislike padding my stories to make them longer. It's the same reason why the time skips are so large, and why I mention what they did during that time. The only thing worse than watching a training montage is reading about one, and we've all read far too many.

Kingsley: I threw in Lee Jordan because canonically they meet at some point and do Potter Watch. I figured that'd be easier with them traveling together. The woman is Hestia Jones. She evacuated the Dursleys, but it seemed weird two witches and wizards were assigned to it. I figured it'd be good to put her here. She was also with Kingsley at Hogwarts when the Death Eaters invaded. I hope Kingsley and Alexander's interaction came across natural. It's always a pain writing somebody who is not only wrong, but has a holier than thou attitude.

Alexander calling out Voldemort three times: Yes, I'm poking fun at it being similar to Bloody Mary. I also wanted to show that Alexander was also stressed because of everything, and he made a mistake in calling too much at once. I figured the Snatchers would have some sort of protocol, if Voldemort is being repeated in an area, send out a larger group to make a deeper message.

I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	26. Year 7 Part 9

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

WARNING: This story is dark and contains mature, adult themes. Reader discretion is advised.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

Douglas and Theodora cornered Alexander once they set up their next camp. The rest of the Mudblood Brigade was behind them, looking uncomfortable but unified. Douglas spoke.

"We're not doing that again."

Alexander didn't bother looking up from the fire, where he was crouched for warmth. "Agreed."

His easy agreement seemed to startle the group. Alexander looked up at them with a pain-filled smile. "You're not prisoners. Or slaves. I'm not going to throw away your lives in our pursuit of the end of the Death Eaters. But tonight, I know I crossed a line, and for that, I owe you all an apology."

"I'm sorry. I let my rage get a hold of me, and James paid for it with his life. I'm so sorry," Alexander trailed off.

Theodora spoke, "Peggy and I want out." Her wife approached her, taking her free hand and holding it tightly. Alexander saw how both tightly clutched their wands, and he realized they expected him to Obliviate them.

"I'm not going to take your memories," he told them. Everyone was surprised. "I want everybody to take the next week, to figure out if you want to stay here and continue the fight, or go your own way. You know how to defend yourselves now, and once we move camps, there will be no concern about us being found. But your decision will be permanent, until the end of this war."

He stood up. "I'll be taking my leave for the week. Until I return, Cassandra's in charge. When I return, you will give me your answer. Regardless of your choice, know that I'm honored that you've gone this far with me and proud of what you have accomplished. You have saved lives, never doubt that."

Alexander apparated away, and for the first time in months, he was home. A mountain towered above him, climbed so often he knew its many secrets. And here at the base was his snow-covered home, just as he had left it. Alexander knew he should get some rest, both for his mind and his body, but his spirit was restless. And so, he climbed.

Time passed in a familiar rhythm, the rock, snow, and ice beneath his fingers an old friend. The chill was chased from his body by the physical exertion, and he rose.

When night came, he molded a ledge with his magic and let it wrap around him, protecting him from the winter chill. What little sleep he had that night was restless, plagued with the memory of how James, loyal and fierce, died because Alexander pushed too hard, too fast against their enemies. Alexander vowed never to make that mistake again.

When dawn came, Alexander was surprised, but pleased, to find his pocket warming. Daphne was calling him, and with trembling fingers, he answered.

"Alex, what's wrong?" Daphne asked in concern. She was wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, and judging by her surroundings, she was still in bed.

"James died yesterday," Alexander said. "He died because I lost my temper, summoned too many Snatchers with the Taboo, and he paid the price."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Daphne softly said. "Did he have any family left?"

"No, the Death Eaters had already killed them. Us, and revenge, was all he had left," Alexander said. The view from this high was quite beautiful, but he found his eyes drifting back to Daphne every few seconds. She broke the silence.

"Astoria and I are staying at Hogwarts for Christmas. It's dangerous, but I can't stand going back home, listening to my mother speak about the Dark Lord," Daphne explained. Alexander grunted.

"Things around Hogwarts are rough," Daphne continued. "The Carrows have been cursing first-year Half-bloods. More students have disappeared, and not all of them because of the Death Eaters. There's a rumor that the students missing are part of Potter's D.A., but nobody knows for sure. Still, someone's laying traps for the Carrows and the Headmaster around the school, and nobody knows who."

"They have the right idea," Alexander said. "Keep your head down, cause chaos, and don't die. Still, I'm glad somebody is resisting at Hogwarts."

"They're making things difficult for the rest of us. The Carrows have been cursing anyone who looks at them funny, and Crabbe and Goyle have turned into real pieces of work without Malfoy here to lead them. I've heard rumors that the Carrows have been teaching them Dark Magic."

Alexander grunted at that. "That has disaster written all over it. I still remember when Crabbe managed to jinx himself to only speak in limericks for a week."

That made Daphne smile, but it faded as she looked around. "I need to go before anyone wakes up. Merry Christmas, Alex."

"Merry Christmas, Daphne," he replied.

"Don't obsess over your mistakes, Alex. Your heart is in the right place," Daphne said, before closing the connection. Alexander traced the tablet's surface fondly before stowing it away.

He resumed his climb, but only for a few minutes. His hands found a particularly sharp outcropping, with long, deliberate lines carved into its surface. He let it cut him, and blood bled onto the surface. The stone before him bubbled and waved before collapsing inward, leaving behind a small ledge to sit on. He did so and placed his hand on the wall beside him.

Again it melted, this time revealing a series of stone shelves. Each held a belonging precious to him, his wand, his tablets, or his other small inventions. But on one shelf was only a small box, which he opened.

Glinting in the soft morning light were his Philosopher's Stones, no worse for the wear. He touched them, feeling the familiar jolt of magic beneath his finger, before snapping the box shut and returning it to its place. Satisfied that they were still safe, he exited the hole and reinstated the protective stone surface. Satisfied, Alexander let go of the cliff.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

When Alexander returned, he was unsurprised that Theodora and Peggy had packed and were ready to leave. But it was the two men next to them that drew Alexander's eyes.

"So you're leaving, Leo?" Alexander asked. His son Oscar was angrily glaring at his father's back.

Leo shrugged apologetically. "I want my son to live. He can't do that here."

"Yes, I can! I can fight!" Oscar protested, stepping away from Theodora and Peggy.

"No, you won't! I forbid it!" Leo roared. He was trembling fiercely, his limbs shaking so much, he looked as though he would drop his wand.

"No!" Oscar shouted back. "Mom died because of those bastards. I'm not going to run away! I'm not a child, dad; you can't stop me!"

Leo swore, pacing angrily back and forth. "You can't just throw your life away! You'll end up like him!" He pointed at Alexander, offending both young men.

"Just because you're scared doesn't mean I am! I'm staying, dad!" Oscar said, planting his feet firmly. Leo glared at his son.

"If I cannot talk sense into you, fine, we'll do this the hard way. Voldemort!" Leo shouted.

Alexander wasn't prepared for a Bludgeoning Charm to his chest and was thrown backward. It took several moments for the world to righten, and when it did, he wished it hadn't.

Eight Snatchers stood near Leo, who pointed angrily at him. "The Mudbloods captured my son and I! Help us!"

The Snatchers quickly began sending out curses, subduing Oscar, who struggled valiantly to escape, and Mina, who had the misfortune of her arm being cut off. Both were dragged to the Snatcher's line, with Leo taking safety behind it. Mina's screams were brutally silenced shortly after.

The Mudblood Brigade was not idle during this time. Cassandra and Douglas both began throwing out curses, trying to provide a distraction to keep Alexander safe while he recovered. Theodora and Peggy tried to turn the tide in their favor, raising wands, but tragedy struck.

The Snatchers, seeing they were pinned between two hostile groups, took cover. Their apparent leader huddled in the middle and drew in a great, deep breath, and shouted, "Voldemort!"

More pops filled the camp, enemy wizards surrounding them. Alexander had regained his breath and feet by the point, raising his rebar wand and unleashing hell upon the invaders. For a moment, it seemed as though he could turn the tide, but then He arrived.

The Dark Lord Voldemort glided, like a malevolent force, across the battlefield. His wand rose and fell like a conductor's, spitting out curses and hexes and magic that Alexander could not even begin to identify. Douglas was split in half by a greenish-yellow spell, while Peggy was sliced to ribbons by a dark cutter. Theodora's rage at seeing her wife's fall drew the attention of the Dark Lord, who lazily killed her with a Killing Curse. He turned to Cassandra.

Alexander moved forward, casting furiously. He transfigured the dirt and stone beneath their feet into golems, sending them forward with little spears of glass to stab into the legs of anyone in their way. The Snatchers distracted, Alexander turned to the Dark Lord.

He was toying with Cassandra. The fierce witch was putting up a valiant struggle, but she was hopelessly outclassed, and she knew it. In her desperation to strike a blow, she turned to far more esoteric magic and summoned Fiendfyre.

A stallion of pure flame roared into being, raising the temperature of the camp, and sending Alexander stumbling to the ground. The Snatchers stumbled away, and Alexander's golems were blasted to pieces by the intense heat. As for Lord Voldemort, he looked almost amused if one could say such an expression could cross his snake-like features. He raised his wand.

Cassandra's control over the Fiendfyre was tenuous at best, for it was not a spell she had practiced. The Dark Lord usurped control over the spell almost casually, a feat Alexander knew to be beyond most magicals regardless of age or skill. The Dark Lord turned the cursed flames on their creator with a cruel smile on his face.

Cassandra's screams pierced Alexander's ear as she was burnt to a crisp. Alexander roared, surging to his feet and thrusting his wand forward. He was going to kill the Dark Lord.

Curses darted across the camp, aimed with lethal intent at the calmly watching Dark Lord. Transfigured beasts burst into creation, ambling forward to tear, slice, and bite their foes. Earthen hands rose from the ground, to restrict the Dark Lord's movements.

All failed.

The curses were flicked away dismissively, shattering the transfigured beasts. Those few who survived were crushed with an invisible force, grinding their bodies into dust. The earthen hands were eyed with curiosity, but the Dark Lord half-faded into smoke, in a process not unlike what Rookwood did to escape Alexander.

Which was why Alexander threw a lightning bolt at him.

It struck, coursing through the cloud and shocking the Dark Lord. He fell to the ground, breathing heavily, but his eyes never left Alexanders, burning with hatred. The Dark Lord's Legimincy probe smashed into Alexander's mind with all the ferocity of a rampaging dragon, sending the young man to his knees.

The shield protecting Alexander's mind weathered the assault, painfully but adequately. In this moment of distraction, Alexander saw one opportunity, one chance, for victory, and he took it. He wandlessly banished his rebar wand into the Dark Lord's eye.

A blast of magic sent Alexander flying through the air. He was still reeling from the mental attack, trying to get his bearings, and was unprepared for a Crucio to smash into him like a freight train, stealing his breath away. The spell could only have been the Dark Lord's as it was a hundred times worse than Umbridge's, tainted with anger, rage, and bloodlust.

When the spell finally stopped, Alexander couldn't feel the left side of his face. His right eye was blurry with blood, but from his left, he could see nothing. Horrified, Alexander realized he was blind in that eye. He could do nothing but lay there as his body spasmed, as footsteps approached.

A heavily booted foot kicked Alexander over but compared to the Dark Lord's Crucio, it might as well been a caress. The blood in his eye cleared, allowing Alexander to see a vengeful Dark Lord glaring down at him, with one eye missing and another in his hand. Alexander realized with horror that it was his own.

Alexander watched as the Dark Lord began to augment his stolen eye, changing the shape and color to match his own. With a flick of his wand, it flew through the air, sucking itself into the Dark Lord's skull with a disgusting sound. The Dark Lord blinked a few times before focusing on Alexander. He held up the rebar wand.

"A fascinating tool, your wand. I had thought I was mistaken when you banished it into my eye, but it seems I was not. Your wand not only lacks a core, but it's made of metal," Lord Voldemort said. His voice was like a razor upon Alexander's ears.

The Dark Lord continued. "You actually managed to land a blow on me, no mean feat, I assure you. But I will have your secrets! Legilimency!"

If Alexander had thought the Dark Lord's first attack was powerful, it was nothing compared to the second. The Dark Lord's spell beat without mercy upon Alexander's Occlumency, grinding upon it with terrifying force. Decades of magical strength and control were being blasted against Alexander's mind, and something had to give.

Alexander lost control of his body as it began to twitch and spasm from the pain. He could feel more blood leaking from his mouth and eyes and ears, but could do nothing to stop it as his magic abandoned his body to preserve his mind. The Dark Lord's attack stopped a few moments later.

"Hmm." The Dark Lord contemplated Alexander with dangerously intelligent eyes. "Rookwood! This is the Mudblood you spoke of?"

"Yes, master," Rookwood's voice said, the owner out of Alexander's sight.

"Fascinating. It's decided then. Take him, and the others, and break them. I want to know everything they know," Lord Voldemort ordered. He gave Alexander one last, curious look, before departing.

Rookwood's face filled Alexander's vision a moment later, grinning down at him. Red light filled Alexander's vision, and he knew no more.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

The next time Alexander woke up, he was chained loosely to a wall in a dimly lit dungeon. He was stripped, clad only in his underwear, and the chill of the dungeon cut deep. Although his limbs shook, it wasn't from his cell; it was from the Cruciatus induced tremors that still wracked his frame.

Some feeling had returned to the left side of his face, but not much. The loss of his eye enraged Alexander, and the warmth of rage helped his mind clear enough so he could focus on more of his surroundings.

The dungeon he was in was sparsely lit. There were seven other cells, but only three were occupied, all spaced out, so none of the captives were next to one another. Alexander recognized his fellow prisoners, even if it took him a moment.

Oscar Howards was to Alexander's left, two cells over. Across the room from the young man was his father, Leo. Both men were bound by manacles to the wall and seemed to be unconscious. But it was the third figure who drew Alexander's eye.

It had been a few months, that felt like years if Alexander was honest with himself, since he had last seen someone from his year at Hogwarts. Although judging by the state of the young man, Alexander reasoned that he had been here for most of it.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was awake, sitting in a corner with his arms wrapped around his knees. Manacles jingled on his wrists with every breath, and he had a thousand-yard stare. But most noticeable was the constant trembling, and something told Alexander that it wasn't from the cold.

A door banged into the wall, causing Justin to flinch. Alexander twisted his head, as much as he could as his muscles were protesting the movement. Rookwood walked into the dungeon, leading a House-elf.

"Feed them once a day, Genn. And make sure they don't kill themselves. It wouldn't do to ruin our fun," Rookwood ordered.

Genn nodded his bobble-like head. "Yes, master." He popped away.

Rookwood eyed the dungeon with a pleased air. "Welcome to your new home! Sorry for the mess, some of the previous occupants were less than gracious." Justin shrank in on himself further, hiding his face.

Alexander merely narrowed his eyes and tried to focus inward. As much as his body hurt, he didn't need it to control his magic, and he had enough of Rookwood. He mentally grabbed on to his magic and prepared himself to escape.

Pain tore through his body as if he had just jammed his finger into an electrical socket. As soon as his magic slipped from his control, the pain stopped, and he realized with horror what Rookwood had somehow managed to do.

Rookwood smiled. "Ah, it is as I thought. You've somehow figured out wandless magic. An impressive accomplishment for anyone, especially with the handicap of your blood. Still, you will tell me how you accomplished this."

Alexander managed to regain his breath and glared up at the Death Eater. He kept his mouth shut, though, an action that seemed to amuse Rookwood. The Death Eater laughed.

"I think we'll start with your companions. No need to get hasty. After all, you're never going to get out of here alive."

Out of the corner of Alexander's eye, Justin curled into an even smaller ball.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

AN: Some of you might have noticed I put all of Years One through Seven into a single story. It was done for a lot of reasons, but mainly to make things easier on the reader. So enjoy!

Alexander made many mistakes, he is not infallible. Currently, the only survivors of the Mudblood Brigade are Alexander, Leo, and Oscar.

Voldemort: Harry Potter, whose only notable magical accomplishment is a Patronus, is somehow his equal in canon. I'll be taking a slightly different interpretation of the Prophecy, namely, only the one Voldemort marked will be able to kill him. Because honestly, if Harry Potter was leading an insurrection to conquer Great Britain, I wouldn't expect him to succeed. Granted Canon Voldemort isn't much better, but I'm going to pretend he's every inch the Dark Lord he's supposed to be, as otherwise he wouldn't have gained the reputation he has. So: Overwhelming magic, esoteric knowledge, and sadistic cruelty in spades.

Alexander resisting Voldemort's Legilimency: Considering his intense focus and desire to keep his secrets, I don't think it'd be out of the realm of possibility for Alexander to resist Voldemort's attempts. It comes across more of a which is more powerful scenario: Cruelty or Desperation. Cruelty is pretty intense, but desperate people can and will move mountains.

Which is why, capture. Voldemort's going to have Rookwood torture Alexander to find out his secrets. Like I said, this is a dark story.

I hope you're all enjoying it!


	27. Year 7 Part 10

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

Pain and misery dominated Alexander's mind. The days blurred together in a cycle of hell on earth. And Alexander wasn't alone in his torment.

Rookwood was inventive in his tortures, yet somehow not a sadist. He didn't want to revel in his victim's pain, he just wanted information, with an intensity that Alexander was horrified to realize that matched his own. In another life, he could have been this Pure-blood.

Every morning Alexander and the other prisoners were woken up with a "light" Crucio. A bucket of water was placed in each cell; all the water they were given for drinking, bathing, and treating their wounds. It was the kindest mercy they were allowed.

Rookwood would choose one person each day to torture, entering their cell while the others looked on in relief. He was particularly fond of playing father and son against one another, and it only took him two weeks to turn the two men against one another, screaming each other's secrets.

It took only slightly longer for Alexander to realize why Justin Finch-Fletchley was there. The young man had been caught two months ago with a group of roving Muggle-borns and had been canny enough to escape the initial assault with some well-timed potion throws. They had reacted in an unsuspecting way, drawing Rookwood's attention, and he had hunted down the Muggle-born to discover why.

One month later, Rookwood knew what potions had been used, figured out how they had combined, and knew every dirty little secret Justin kept in his head. Rookwood kept the Muggle-born around, simply because once he had the information he needed, he forgot to dispose of the young man. That all changed after Alexander had been captured.

It took Rookwood less than a day to determine that Alexander would not break easily. Rather than be disappointed, he seemed to relish the challenge. Every day he decided to torture Alexander, he would start it off by torturing Justin in front of him. Every wound, every torment, would be first done to one Muggle-born as a sort of cruel show, before being done to the second. Alexander reasoned that Rookwood must have thought it would break his spirit.

Which was why it surprised everybody one day when Justin's heart gave out and he died. Rookwood looked down at his victim with something akin to surprise, and betrayal as if it offended him that Justin died. Rookwood settled on a "light" Crucio session for Alexander, before leaving. He, and Genn the House-elf, made no move to remove the corpse.

A week later, Alexander, Leo, and Oscar were surprised not to be awoken by a Crucio. Their confusion was short-lived as the Dark Lord swept into the dungeon, his red eyes dark with anger.

"Crucio," he intoned, the spell slamming into Alexander's body. It hurt just as much as it did weeks ago, and Alexander writhed in his chains. Lord Voldemort released the spell once he saw that Alexander had bit his tongue and was choking on his blood. "Perhaps now you'll be more willing to speak."

Alexander spat out a mouthful of blood at the Dark Lord's feet. "No."

"No? It's not often someone refuses Lord Voldemort," the Dark Lord said. He was almost friendly as he said that, were it not for the dangerous tone coloring his words.

"Does Lord Voldemort often speak in the third person?"

That earned Alexander another Crucio. Fortunately for Alexander's sanity, the Dark Lord let up after a moment. Unfortunately, his body kept twitching, and random waves of pain began to tear through his body. Alexander wondered if the weeks of torture had finally broken his body.

The Dark Lord struck again, with Legilimency this time, and pain was once more Alexander's world. Alexander could feel Voldemort digging into his skull, try to breach his Occlumency to reach his mind. Despite how horrific it was, Alexander couldn't help but examine the Dark Lord's technique as he was tortured.

Rookwood favored demoralizing his victims, wanting them to give up their secrets willingly. Voldemort was all about domination; he demanded his victims to submit, to yield to his might. Magically, Alexander was far from his equal, but the mind was a different kind of battlefield. No one would ever take his knowledge from him.

Lord Voldemort withdrew from Alexander's mind, dissatisfied. "I thought I instructed you to break him, Augustus?" he asked his servant.

"I have tried, my lord, but he is resilient. I will renew my efforts on him," Rookwood said. The Dark Lord hummed in thought.

"And the other two?"

"Nobodies, my lord. They know and have nothing of value," Rookwood explained. So broken were Leo and Oscar that neither man said anything.

"Dispose of them then." The Dark Lord eyed Justin's rotting corpse with distaste. "And find out this one's secrets. I grow impatient."

"Of course, my lord," Rookwood said, bowing. The Dark Lord left the dungeon, gliding across the floor like an angry snake. He turned toward Oscar and Leo and raised his wand. Two green flashes later, and the men were dead. He turned toward Alexander and raised his wand once more, a dark, inquisitive look in his eyes.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

With the other three prisoners dead, Rookwood only had Alexander to focus his attention on. Every morning he would wake up by a curse, and then spend the day being tortured by Rookwood. Worse were the days where Rookwood was not there when Alexander was left alone with his thoughts.

First, he thought about Daphne. He hadn't spoken to her in weeks, not since before Christmas. He wondered how she was doing, if she was safe at Hogwarts. Alexander realized early on that it was unlikely that he would be able to help her escape the Dark Lord's clutches. Having met the man several times now, he could fully appreciate the danger she was in. Unfortunately, he couldn't do anything to help her.

He wondered if she tried to call him using the tablet lately. He had one on him when he was captured, but he hadn't seen it since he was stripped of his clothes. Alexander hoped Rookwood had tried to access it, but considering the lack of explosion, he somehow doubted it.

Next, he thought about the rest of the Mudblood Brigade. Dead, all by following him. He should have gotten them out of the country like all the others, far from danger. Granted, if the Dark Lord spread his attention overseas, the rest of the world would be in trouble too. Perhaps humanity was always doomed to be consumed by a Dark Lord...

But most of all, Alexander thought about his magic. Every few days, he mustered up the energy to reach toward it, trying to grasp it, and each time a surge of electricity would burn through him. It took him a few weeks to realize the source of the magic suppressing him, and when he did, he nearly cursed out loud.

The manacles attaching him to the wall were simple, charmed, metal, but the plates they were attached to in the wall were not. On their surface, unfamiliar runes were carved, which was quite an accomplishment considering how well versed Alexander was on the subject. But it did tell him he had a way to escape.

Every runic scheme needed magic to work, in varying amounts depending on the complexity and purpose. However, an unpopular and dangerous technique in Curse Break involved pumping unknown runes with magic in order to negate them. The reason why this technique was so unpopular, despite how effective it was at neutralizing foreign runes, was twofold: It completely destroyed the runes, and it did so by violently exploding them.

The amount of destruction was dependent on a whole host of factors. The size of the area covered, the amount of magic already in the runes, how much foreign magic was added, were just some of them. The runes preventing Alexander from escaping could explode with enough force to destroy everything within ten meters, or merely cause the plates to fall out of the wall. Alexander dearly hoped for the latter.

The issue Alexander had was being able to pump magic into them in the first place. It took a number of painful trials and errors, but Alexander found he could leak a small amount of magic into the runes each time he reached for his magic. Unfortunately, it wasn't much, and the induced pain always broke his concentration. Combined with the physical and mental torture, Alexander was uncomfortably reminded of his first year at Hogwarts.

It had been years since he truly reflected on those terrifying days, the fear that ran through him. Alexander had thought those months had been pain, torture, but he had been so wrong. Having to torture himself, electrify himself, just to use his magic to escape, that was real torture.

The days blended together. Night and day had no meaning to Alexander in that dungeon. If it wasn't the pain Rookwood inflicted on him, it was the pain he inflicted on himself. Some days glazed by, and he hallucinated entire conversations without even realizing it.

"Got any fours?" Alexander asked the Dark Lord. He was reasonably sure that they were playing a card game.

"Legilimency," Lord Voldemort would say. Something ground around inside Alexander's head but could make no headway. Despite the pain, Alexander giggled.

"Go fish."

Those hallucinations usually ended with the sharp pain of a Crucio and blessed darkness. Eventually, Alexander would wake up, his limbs trembling non-stop, his body feverish, for another day of hell.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

"How did someone so young accomplish wandless magic?" Lord Voldemort asked. He was once more in Alexander's cell.

Alexander smiled, or at least, he thought he did. It was hard to tell what his body was sometimes doing. "I'm not going to tell you," he slurred.

"If you do not tell me what I want to know, I will take your other eye," Lord Voldemort threatened. Alexander laughed, the sound broken to his ears.

"Then you'll never get my secrets." Alexander lay slumped against the wall, his body thin from the months spent in this cell.

"And why would you say that?" the Dark Lord asked dangerously. Rookwood, as always, was standing behind him, watching his master work silently.

"Because Legimincy needs eye contact to work. The eyes are the window to the soul, and the mind in this case. If I have no eyes, you can't get in my mind. After all, you can break my body, but you cannot break my soul."

Did Alexander hallucinate the Dark Lord Voldemort flinching? He must have, for the Crucio came hard and fast, sending him to the filthy floor.

"How about I remove your tongue?" Voldemort threatened, raising his wand, but Alexander chose to speak more.

"You took my eye. I wonder what would happen if someone cast Legimincy on you. Would they see into your mind or mine?" Alexander asked. "After all, it was my eye. Or is it now yours? Shall we find out?"

Alexander was treated to a rare sight: A Dark Lord unnerved. It was there for just a moment, but it was unmistakable, and Alexander knew that somehow he had won that little exchange.

"Crucio!" Voldemort roared.

Alexander found himself confused when no new pain appeared. It took him far too long to look at the Dark Lord, to see him pointing his wand at Rookwood, holding his Death Eater under the Torture Curse. Lord Voldemort finally released it, leaving his servant gasping on the ground.

"For months you have failed me, Rookwood. Break him!" Lord Voldemort ordered, before sweeping from the dungeon. Left in his wake lay two gasping men, one a loyal servant, and the other a hated foe.

Alexander couldn't help smiling at Rookwood, as despite how each man lay with their faces to the ground, they could still see one another. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you," Rookwood growled.

"No, you're not," Alexander said. He closed his eye.

"And why not?" Rookwood demanded, shakily raising himself to a sitting position.

Instead of answering, Alexander focused on his magic. He pushed down to it, fighting through the pain, the shaking, the dread he felt. Alexander felt as though he was swimming downward, into a pool, and the sensation only intensified when he touched his magic. An electric wire dipped in burning oil wrapped around his body sounded about right for what he was feeling.

But Alexander held on, pushing harder than he had ever before. The Dark Lord had only lightly tortured him this time, in comparison to the hours of pain he usually imparted, leaving him with clarity that was rare these days. Alexander pushed raw magic into the runes on the manacles, and through his clenched eye, he could see a burning light. Fire licked Alexander's hands before a loud boom deafened him, a shockwave pushing him into the ground.

For the first time in months, Alexander could feel his magic without the sensation hurting him. Phantom echoes could still be felt, but finally, it was free. Alexander opened his eye.

The dungeon was ruined. The metal bars twisted and bent in a wave leading away from Alexander, the epicenter. Great chunks of the walls, floor, and ceiling were torn out and thrown all over the place. And in front of Alexander sat a dazed Rookwood, clutching his bleeding head.

The two men noticed one another at the same time. They both looked at Rookwood's wand, miraculously unbroken by the explosion. Neither man moved for a moment as they stared one another down.

Rookwood's hand twitched, grabbing his wand and beginning to point upwards to cast an Anti-Apparation Jinx, when Alexander Apparated out of the dungeon, toward freedom.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

Alexander landed in a clearing he knew very well, with a familiar mountain peak looming over him. It took him far too long to realize that what he was laying on wasn't snow, but the bloom of flowers. Spring was in the air, and he was on the ground.

It wasn't by choice, of course. Months of torture would wreck anyone's body, and the effects couldn't be wiped away with a wave of a wand or a potion. Alexander struggled to crawl, to pull himself to the lean-to he once used for shelter, but he stopped after a moment of struggling.

Painfully, he turned toward back to the mountain. There was one thing that could help Alexander, the Elixer of Life. Unfortunately, it couldn't be stored long term, but he did have the ingredients needed to make it work, just inconveniently out of reach—halfway up a mountain.

So Alexander dragged himself forward. His limbs shook as he moved them, his fingers spasming as they grabbed dirt. Progress was made, inch by inch, but Alexander knew his task was impossible. He could barely struggle across the ground, let alone up a mountain.

He rolled onto his back, staring upward. The mountain loomed over him, an immovable sentinel. It held no judgment for Alexander's failure; it was unmoved by his fate. To it, things simply were as they were.

Alexander's frustration bled into anger. This could not, would not be his end. He glared up at the cliff above him and roared his defiance, refusing to fail. Alexander needed to get up there, and he dug down deep to seize his magic. He demanded his ascension, and his magic answered.

Flight, actual flight, had always escaped Alexander. Time after time, he had thrown himself off of the mountain's top, hurdling toward the ground like a meteor. He had felt fear, yes—even regret. But never had Alexander felt a genuine need, and that was what magic needed to succeed.

Alexander rose. It was wobbly, he listed slightly to the side, and his pace was uncontrolled and fluctuating, but he rose. Weightlessness embraced him, not unlike being submerged in water, but so much more freeing. Despite the pain in his body, mind, and soul, Alexander felt elation.

Flight did not care for the state of his body, the tremors of his limbs. It is an act of will power and magic, not a physical one. Slowly Alexander brought the power of flight under his control, establishing his dominance over the purest expression of magic he had ever felt. Finally, three hundred feet in the air, Alexander slowed to a stop and floated there.

He could see the forest below him. Alexander had no fear of heights; climbing the mountain had cured him of that long ago. The forest below swayed like grass in the wind, the sun warmed his limbs, and Alexander let out a shout of joy.

Upward, he launched, as fast he dared. Yet still, he could feel that he could go faster. He obeyed that instinct, embracing it, and found himself suddenly above the mountain's peak for the first time in his life. He hovered there, enjoying the new view, before flipping in the air, looking at the world now above him. There was one more thing he must do.

Alexander pulled the magic back into himself, and immediately gravity reasserted its hold on him. He fell through the air like a rock, plummeting to the ground far below. The forest, once a single mass, began to separate into trees of all sizes, and before he could blink, Alexander found himself passing through their branches. They whipped at his beaten skin without mercy, but Alexander never tore his gaze from the clearing, his clearing, as he rocketed toward it. In a moment, he would impact.

Except it never happened. A handsbreadth from the forest floor, Alexander hovered without a care in the world. Gravity once more ignored his presence as he held himself there, revolving slowly in the light. He righted himself and rose once more.

A climb that would have taken him a day passed by in a handful of heartbeats. Hours of exertion gone with just a little bit of magic. He marveled at how easy it was.

He stopped in front of a familiar piece of stone. A touch of his bloody hand melted the surface, revealing a familiar ledge. Rather than take a seat, Alexander opened it up further, revealing the contents. A moment later, it was closed, sealed once more to the world.

And Alexander descended to the Earth below with a sliver of Philosopher's Stone in his hand.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

To make the Elixer of Life, one does not need any powerful ingredients, save one. A Philosopher's stone, the pinnacle of Alchemy, and the most powerful magical artifact to ever exist. The additional water and blood needed to create the elixir were almost unimportant in comparison.

First, Alexander levitated the tiny sliver in the air, holding it in place with magic. A wave of a trembling arm later had conjured water falling upon the stone, dripping into a cup below. Each drop came away shiny as if the water had been purified by just touching the stone. With each drop, the Philosopher's Stone sliver shrank until it disappeared.

Fortunately, Alexander had a cup full of oddly shiny water left over. The next step was just as simple as the first. A small cut on his thumb later, and Alexander was dripping fresh blood into the cup. With each drop, the mixture changed, darkening until the liquid was the color of blood. The cup almost glowed with power.

It was time. Alexander couldn't hold the cup with his hands; the trembling in his limbs would make him spill every drop. Instead, he levitated it toward his mouth and began to drink.

It tasted like raspberries if raspberries tasted like blood and electricity. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, but it was definitely a taste Alexander wasn't used to. He drained the cup dry.

His stomach twisted. Alexander had a brief moment of thought, wondering if he was wrong about everything, and he had just poisoned himself when the sensation stopped. And suddenly, Alexander felt like he could see stars.

Magic coursed through his body, both foreign and his own. It burned with fire and ice, destroying and reforging as it went along, fixing and healing the damages all over Alexander's body. His left eye socket twinged, but the elixir could not regrow eyes; it could not recreate that which was destroyed. But his pain was soothed.

For the first time in months, Alexander could feel no pain. Phantom sensations danced along his remade nerves, remnants of the hell he had been through, but there was no real pain. Alexander found himself relaxing into the earth.

His mind felt sharper than it had in a long time, if not ever. But that sharpness brought memories, weeks, and months of darkness and pain. It threatened to overwhelm him, and Alexander was not ashamed of the tears that fell from his eye. Four months he had spent in that hell, but it hadn't broken him. He was free, and he would never be imprisoned again.

Alexander held out his hand, and a stone flew into it. As his fingers ghosted over it, molding it with magic, he briefly watched the scars stretched over his skin, the skeletal fingers that were his own. The Elixir of Life could only do so much to heal him, restoring function and repairing damage, but not replacing what was lost. Alexander would never regain his eye or lose his scars, but he could recover his muscles, eventually.

He turned his attention back to the stone, which was now flat and square. He began to carve runes onto its surface, twisting all over the stone in wavy lines. He empowered them, tying enchantments to them to create the most basic version of his tablet.

"Daphne Greengrass," Alexander said, speaking without pain for the first time in months. His voice almost caught in his throat, but he persevered. He needed to talk to her.

The tablet's surface remained unchanged. Alexander frowned, but tried again. Unfortunately, his second attempt had as little success as the first, and nothing happened. "Damn," Alexander said.

He stood up and went to put the tablet in his pocket but missed. Belatedly, Alexander realized he was still wearing his ratty and filthy underwear. For the first time in weeks, Alexander felt embarrassed by his nakedness and set out to change that.

The underwear, he vanished. He magicked the filth from his body, leaving him clean and revealing just how much his body had shrunk over the last few months of starvation and torture. A wave of his hand summoned a dozen leaves that he quickly stretched and transfigured until they formed clothes. They were not well made or stylish, but they covered him, and that was enough.

Finally able to pocket the tablet, he did so. Alexander turned his gaze east, toward Hogwarts, and contemplated the forest before him. For the first time in months, Alexander smiled.

And took to the air.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

AN: Thank you everybody who has reviewed/read the story over the past two days. Wasn't expecting to have that big of a jump in viewers when I condensed the stories, thanks for surprising me guys.

I was amused when I was accused of having a case of "Schadenfreude", especially since I had to google it. You're more than welcome to think that if you'd like. Personally, I subscribe to the belief that if you're going to give your characters god-like power, you need to break them of their humanity first.

The Philosopher's Stone: It "healed" Alexander to the degree that he's not in danger of starvation or infection, as well as healing his wounds and nerve damage. Theoretically, it could be used to "cure" the Longbottoms, but that won't be happening in this story as Alexander is completely unaware of their existence, let alone their state. But it will not regrow the muscle mass, the eye he lost, or the healed scars he's gained.

As for Alexander knowing how to make the Elixir of Life, I figured I'd be kind to him. I figure at some point Flamel arrogantly gave an interview or wrote a book, explaining how to make it (as he didn't think anybody but he would be able to create a Philosopher's Stone). I almost went back and rewrote one of the prior years to include a chapter where he makes it, using it on Mopsy, but decided against it because it seemed like a bad way to get House-elves addicted to a Philosopher's Stone. So, let's all just be happy for Alexander being healed in time to go to Hogwarts.

As for why didn't he use it to heal himself after his family was murdered and he left for dead: He just lost his family, he definitely wasn't thinking about that. It wasn't until he reached Hogwarts that the option was really available (muggles would have noticed if he was suddenly healed), and by then, he wanted the scars to be a reminder to him of the time he failed.

Flight: Prior to this chapter, Alexander only **wanted** to fly, not **needed** it. Magic is chiefly driven by need; I need this stone to come to me, so it does. I need this person to stop attacking me, so they slow down, get tied up, get stunned, etc. Incantations and wand movements help provide magic a "boost" so that your need can be lesser, but if you cast a Stunning Spell, you most likely need someone stunned. Which was why Alexander throwing himself off the cliff didn't work, he was already in the air and even though he **wanted** to fly, he **needed** to not hit the ground fatally. Also levitation does not equal flight.

If anyone was curious, Alexander escaped on May 1st, 1998 and he was imprisoned on New Years Eve. There was something important that happened in the evening of May 1st/morning of May 2nd. I wonder what it was?

I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	28. Year 7 Part 11

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

Alexander landed on the outskirts of Hogsmeade just after nightfall. While he knew he could have flown there faster, Alexander was cautious of his new ability, wanting to make sure he understood it thoroughly, and its limitations. It wasn't like he was rushing toward a battle or anything, he just wanted to check in on Daphne and reassure her he was alright.

He had barely taken a step forward when a pop came from behind him, causing him to whirl around in alarm. Despite the wands the three of the four held, Alexander found his speeding heart calming. After all, he knew two of them.

"You look like hell, Dantes," Dean Thomas said. He moved forward and clapped a friendly hand on Alexander's shoulder. "What happened to your eye?"

Alexander eyed Luna Lovegood, who was gazing at him with vacant eyes but looked back toward Dean. "I just spent the past few months as Rookwood's prisoner. It was decidedly unpleasant."

"How did you escape?" the tall red-haired man demanded. He still hadn't lowered his wand, nor had the silver-haired woman behind him.

Alexander shrugged. "He bound me to a wall with runed manacles. I pushed magic into them between torture sessions. Did it long enough to cause a boom."

The man and the woman hissed in surprise. "You did a Rawling Reaction on runes you were imprisoned by? Are you insane?"

"How about I ask you that question after a few months of torture?" Alexander asked pointedly. The man blanched but lowered his wand.

"I didn't mean anything by it. I'm just surprised. I'm a Curse Breaker, and I've never met someone who's done a Rawling Reaction and survived in one piece. I'm Bill, by the way, Bill Weasley. This is my wife Fleur," Bill said, gesturing to his wife.

"Charmed," Alexander said, giving her a polite nod. His brow furrowed. "Weren't you the Beauxbatons Champion?"

"Oui, it is how I met Bill," the young woman gave Bill a stunning smile.

"And I'm sure you know Luna, she was also in Ravenclaw," Dean said, gesturing toward Luna.

"We've met," Alexander bluntly said. Ignoring her, he looked around the dark street. "Why are you all here?"

Bill gave him a suspicious look. "Why are you here?"

Alexander eyed him but answered. "I made a promise to two students inside to get them to safety before the end of the year. After that, I'm going to hunt down Rookwood. Now, why are you all here?"

"It's okay, we can tell him. The Nargles avoid him," Luna Lovegood said. Everyone gave her a look of disbelief for varying reasons.

"Harry's in the castle. We think he's here to end the war," Dean said, still giving Luna a disbelieving glance out of the corner of his eye. "You could help, you know. You might even be able to find Rookwood."

Revenge burned in Alexander's belly as he considered Dean's words. If Harry was in the castle, about to end the war, then it meant the Dark Lord would throw everything at Hogwarts in an attempt to stop him. Daphne and Astoria were in danger, and he was going to uphold his promise to them. But as his stomach churned, Alexander knew that, right now, more than anything, he wanted to kill Rookwood.

"Done. How did you intend to get into the castle?" Alexander asked.

A door slammed open near them. An ancient bearded face glared out at them, looking awfully similar to Albus Dumbledore. "If you idiots are done talking where anybody could listen in, get in here! Longbottom is waiting!"

Everyone stared at the man for a moment in surprise. "What are you talking about, Aberforth?" Dean asked. The old man rolled his eyes.

"There's a secret passage in my pub to the castle. Now get inside, I've already had to stun the idiots patrolling the village twice tonight," the bartender ordered. Everyone shrugged and filed in, although Alexander made sure to keep the others in front of him like a shield. He wasn't suicidal, after all.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

A secret passage later and Alexander found himself stepping into a room he had never seen, that could only belong in Hogwarts. Dean had immediately moved off to the side, hugging another man wearing a tattered Gryffindor uniform, and Luna, Bill, and Fleur had moved off to join the rest of the Weasley family.

Alexander allowed himself to be swallowed by the crowd, drifting into obscurity. Harry Potter was indeed there, as were Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Next to them stood Neville Longbottom, sporting an impressive amount of cuts and bruises and standing proudly, as a warrior. Alexander wondered what happened to the formerly chubby young man to make him change.

Still, Alexander was far more curious in the room they were in. Dean had called it the Room of Requirement, which was the same room that Mopsy the House-elf had recommended to Alexander last year. It was supposedly capable of great magics, becoming whatever the summoner needed.

But as Alexander walked around, examining the runes carved into the walls, he found himself disappointed. The runes were nonsense, false schemes, only there to look impressive and attract the eye. He wanted to know the secrets of this room, and the room was not willing to give them up easily.

So he turned his back on them and focused on the room at large. Everyone was filing out of a door that had appeared, and Alexander waited to watch them go. He found himself alone with a red-haired girl, who could only have been a Weasley. She glared at him.

"Aren't you going to go with everyone else?" she demanded. Alexander looked her calmly in the eye.

"Obliviate."

Alexander used no wand, and by the time the girl pulled hers out, his spell had already hit her, causing her gaze to unfocus as she lost the last minute of her memory. She was defenseless, unable to prevent Alexander's follow up stunner from slamming into her stomach, subduing her.

As the girl lost consciousness, he felt something touch his mind, something powerful and ancient. It passed through his Occlumency like water, the barriers not even slowing them, and Alexander panicked as it settled in his mind. He prepared himself mentally for something horrible to happen, yet nothing did.

He poked it mentally and was surprised when the room he was in rippled like water. He eyed the drapes that hung around the room, and they all turned purple under his gaze, before rolling up like scrolls. Alexander smiled and poked the foreign presence in his mind once more, which he now realized was the Room of Requirement.

_I want the secrets of this room_, Alexander thought, the foreign presence fluttering calmly. Around him, the room changed, melting and folding in on itself. The red-haired girl stayed with him, laying on the ground as it turned to crystal, the walls gold, and the room filled with chests of treasure.

Alexander was unimpressed by the wealth on display and focused once more. _I want the secrets of this room_, he thought again, forcing his will upon the foreign presence. Again the room changed, only this time becoming a massive library full of books and scrolls that were ancient. Row upon row of shelves appeared filled with these priceless treasures, and Alexander almost succumbed to the temptation of taking them.

But something told him this was a test. "I will have the secrets of this room," he said out loud, firm and unyielding. The room again twisted and blurred, the shelves and their contents vanishing, until nothing remained but two torches framing a portrait. And in that portrait sat two men and two women.

Alexander smiled as the occupants blinked at him with sleepy eyes, becoming aware after centuries of rest.

"Who goes there!" the largest man demanded, a red lion embroidered upon his tunic. Alexander gave him a respectful nod.

"Alexander Dantes. And I want to know everything."

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

The door to the Room of Requirement shut, concealing a red-haired girl blinking in confusion as she woke from her slumber. Alexander paid her, and the room, no more attention, putting a shrunken painting into his pocket and casting a few spells upon it for safe-keeping. He wasn't going to risk the memories of the Founders of Hogwarts after all.

Still, as Alexander strode down the halls of Hogwarts, he couldn't help but feel pleased. Provided he survived the coming conflict, the memories stored within those portraits would be invaluable, providing Alexander with the knowledge of four of the most prolific witches and wizards to ever grace the world. It almost made being tortured for months on end worth it.

The empty halls of Hogwarts surprised Alexander with how small they felt. Just a year ago he had walked them, on a night much like tonight. On that night, he had fought and killed Death Eaters, including Daphne's father. How strange it was, to once more to be walking these halls while looking out for Death Eaters to kill.

A pop by his waist surprised Alexander. Looking down, he found Mopsy, whose height was now up to his belly, grinning up at him with sharp teeth. "Alex has returned!" she cried out eagerly. Her voice sounded deeper.

"I have, Mopsy. I'm glad to see you're alright," Alexander said. He was surprised to realize he was happy to see the creepy little elf.

"Things have been bad here," she said. "Not much fun or chaos since the new headmaster arrived. But he is gone now."

Alexander blinked. "Snape's gone?"

Mopsy nodded. "The professor's chased him out! All the students are in the Great Hall now."

"Thank you for telling me, Mopsy. Listen, a fight is coming, stay safe, yeah?"

"Don't worry about me! The House-elves be fighting! They'll protect me," Mopsy said.

Alexander absently noted that the hive-mind of House-elves seemed to protect poltergeist candidates above themselves. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and focused on the now. "Good. I need to go, Mopsy, we'll talk again soon."

Mopsy said nothing, merely snapping her fingers to turn his pants orange and popping away. With a sigh, Alexander undid the magic before hurrying along. He had a girlfriend to find.

It was only a few minutes later that he found her. He saw the crowd of approaching students, mostly younger years, although there was a smattering of older students among them. But Alexander only cared about one of them.

He saw her, pulling Astoria along, near the end of the procession. Both young women were pale, with shadows under their eyes, but seemed to be in good health otherwise. Alexander was almost upon them when Astoria looked up.

Her eyes went wide as she skidded to a halt, pulling Daphne along with her. Astoria tugged insistingly on her sister's robes, who seemed more intent on dragging her younger sister along to safety than looking at whatever made her stop in the first place. Alexander stopped just an arm's length away.

"Astoria, we must go! This is our only chance," Daphne hissed as the crowd left them behind.

"Well, you might have a second one," Alexander said softly. Daphne froze. "Hey, Daphne."

Slowly Daphne Greengrass turned. Alexander watched as her eyes traced his features, widening when she noticed his missing eye. She reached out a trembling hand, touching the left side of his face softly, and Alexander couldn't help but lean into the touch. Tears filled both their eyes.

In a heartbeat, they were embracing, holding each other as tightly as they could. The smell of lavenders filled Alexander's nose for the first time in a year, and he greedily sunk into Daphne's embrace. The warmth her body gave off was like a soothing balm to his troubled soul.

"What happened?" Daphne asked. "Why wouldn't you answer?"

"Rookwood was holding me captive. I managed to escape this morning and came here once you didn't answer. I'm so sorry, Daphne," Alexander explained.

"It's been months, Alex," she whispered. Alexander couldn't help but flinch at that, the time spent in the dungeon had blurred together, becoming undone by the Elixir of Life. He could remember each day vividly. "I thought you died."

"I know," he said, "and I wish I could have been here for you. You have no idea how much I wish that."

Daphne sniffed, holding him so tightly it hurt. "You're so thin. Was it as horrible as I think it was?"

"Worse. But it's behind me now. Right now, we need to focus on you and Astoria," Alexander said, pulling away reluctantly. He was unsurprised to see tears falling from Daphne's eyes.

"Me?" Astoria asked. She looked lost.

"Daphne asked me to get you both out of the country after O.W.L.s, but I think escaping an invading army is a valid excuse," Alexander explained. He grabbed a sword off the wall, and it glowed blue under his touch. He held it out to her. "Once we get you off the grounds, this portkey will take you to a clearing. If you head west, you'll eventually reach the coast, and you should be able to find a boat out of Britain there."

Alexander was a little worried by how vacant Astoria looked as he laid out what she should do. He turned to Daphne and instead handed her the portkey.

"Here, Daphne."

"You're not coming along?" Daphne angrily demanded.

"Astoria needs you. And I need to get Rookwood."

"I need you!"

"And I'll be following along once I've eliminated Rookwood as a threat," Alexander said. "Trust me, Daphne."

He stroked her cheek for the first time in a year. Alexander looked deep into Daphne's eyes, feeling emotions and feelings stirring in him that he had sorely missed. A moment passed between them, and Daphne gave him the smallest imaginable nod. Alexander smiled and almost left before pausing.

"Here," he said, holding out the shrunken portrait he had taken from the Room of Requirement, "I need you to take this too. It's too valuable to take into battle."

Daphne took it and glanced at it. Then she did a double-take. "Is this what I think it is?" she asked.

"It is."

"But this is priceless! How did you find it?"

"I'll tell you when I'm done here," Alexander said. Daphne looked at him with bright, shining eyes. "I love you, and I will find you. I promise."

"I love you too," she replied, kissing him softly. And then she and Astoria were gone.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

By the time Alexander made his way onto the grounds of Hogwarts, the wards had already fallen, and the battle had started. Death Eaters and Snatchers poured over the grounds like an angry hill of ants, forcing their way into the castle, and attempting to kill everyone inside. Pockets of resistance fought back, school children and teachers, but they were being overrun.

Alexander moved forward, pieces of broken stone rising around him. On each runes were carved by invisible hands, deep and sharp, a reflection of Alexander's intent. A careless wave his hand empowered them, causing them to vibrate intensely, and another sent them flying into the army in front of him.

They exploded in a wave of heat and force. Those closest were killed instantly, but those further out were shredded, left moaning in pain. The closest Death Eaters and Snatchers turned toward Alexander and began to attack him, giving the other defenders a chance to regroup.

Alexander raised a thick, earthen wall, stopping the majority of his attacker's curses. Side-stepping the rest, Alexander quickly transfigured a number of spears, levitating them at the ready. Another hand repeated his trick from the Mudblood Relocation Camp, transfiguring the wall in front of him into ceramic and banishing it at his enemies. The spears followed soon after.

That group of enemies taken care, Alexander moved toward the Hogwart's defenders, who were looking at his kills with green faces. "Wands up!" he ordered. "They're not going to wait for you to recover before they attack again."

Alexander didn't stick around to hear their reply, already moving toward the next group of enemies. He lost himself in a haze of slaughter; transfiguring, banishing, and cursing his enemies until they were dead beneath his feet. He had just cut down a witch, who had been cursing a Hufflepuff when he heard a long, drawn-out, roar of rage from above.

"Rookwood!" a man shouted. Alexander's attention was drawn to Hogwarts, where the scream had originated. Tapping himself on his head, Alexander Disillusioned himself, and took to the air, rising rapidly.

His eyes were drawn to a corridor, where spellfire flashed. Alexander dove through a broken window and found Rookwood dueling with a red-haired man, holding him at bay. Alexander landed and threw out a claw-like hand angrily.

The stone around Rookwood broke instantly, becoming animated. They formed into spiked, stone hands, digging deep into his legs. Rookwood was noticeably surprised by the sudden attack and turned into an insubstantial cloud to escape it.

The red-haired man tried to curse the cloud Rookwood vanished into, but it had no effect. Alexander tried a different tactic, and shot a bolt of lightning into it, breaking his Disillusionment. The cloud screamed in pain and dove out of a window as fast as it could.

Alexander snarled and readied himself to take flight to pursue, but a trio of Snatchers came around the corner and immediately began to curse him and the red-haired man. Alexander summoned a broken picture frame from behind them, piercing one of the men in the chest and killing him. The red-haired man stunned the other two, taking a cutting curse to his jaw for his troubles.

Suddenly a hush fell over Hogwarts. Slowly, like oil, the Dark Lord's voice whispered through the air, as if he were right behind Alexander. "Defenders of Hogwarts. I offer this reprieve. Collect your wounded, your dead, and contemplate my mercy, for I will attack again, in one hour, if Harry Potter does not surrender to me.

"To Harry Potter, I say this. How many more must die for you? Has there not been enough suffering? I await your presence in the Forbidden Forest. Remember, Hogwarts, one hour."

Silence returned. The red-haired man immediately moved away, vanishing toward the staircases. Alexander followed at a far more sedate pace, contemplating the Dark Lord's words. Personally, he doubted the Dark Lord would keep his word, either way, Potter was marked for death, but then again, wasn't he always? As for the rest of Hogwarts, Alexander had no doubts in his mind that they'd be slaughtered to the last for this defiance.

He knew he should leave. With the destruction of the wards, there was nothing stopping him from portkeying, or flying, to Daphne. But even as the thought crossed Alexander's mind, he knew he would not do so, no. He wanted his revenge. Rookwood must pay.

It took Alexander a moment to understand why he was standing before a blank stretch of wall. A tap of his finger had bricks rotating out of his way, forming the entrance to his quarters. Alexander stepped through.

Daphne had moved in. The shelves of his inventions remained, but her things had joined them. Laying next to his unbreakable jar was Daphne's mirror, something he knew she checked every evening before bed. Her favorite winter cloak was folded on a shelf, next to his attempt at making clothing out of water, which had somehow solidified into ice in his absence.

And on the table in front of him was a letter addressed to him. Slowly, Alexander picked it up and began to read.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

"Dear Alex,

It's been far too long since I've heard your voice. I know you do important work, that you're saving lives, but I can't help but fear something horrible has happened to you. I write this letter to give you one day so that you may know the truth.

I love you. With all my heart. Four years ago, three cruel boys overpowered me, held me down, and were about to do unspeakable things to me, when you saved me. You saved a stranger, defending my honor and enacting revenge when I could not.

I was terrified that day. Fear locked my joints, made it impossible for me to act. But you didn't hesitate to enact justice upon those three beasts. You only asked for my permission, to give me first rights to vengeance. And I gave it to you.

Sometimes I wonder if I could have done what you did. And when that question crosses my mind, I never doubt my answer: I would not have been capable of it. I would have turned to my family, my elders, to enact punishment, I would have turned to a society that made men like those boys. And they would have let them go.

There is something rotten in this world. Maybe it is us, humanity, or perhaps it is something inside of us magicals. But, Alex, know that no matter how far you might think you've fallen, I believe in you. You do not falter when it comes time to make the hard decisions, and you stand by them with conviction. In a world filled with so much horror, I believe that you want to make a better one.

I don't know where you are. I do not know the state of your health, your mind, your hope. But no matter what, no matter where I will stand by you, Alexander Dantes. Even if you choose to tear down this world, I know you will want to build a better one in its place. I know this and will support you in it.

Love, Daphne"

Alexander traced Daphne's signature. Tears streamed down his face, and he felt as if a great weight had been removed from his belly. Tension Alexander didn't even know he had, bled out of him. But as he read and reread Daphne's letter, he felt a new weight settle upon him.

It was not anxiety or fear; Alexander had been through far too much for that. It did not rest in his belly, no, it settled across his shoulders, and rose up his neck. It settled on top of his head like a crown, and Alexander closed his eye as he realized what it was: Purpose.

It did not matter to Alexander if Potter or Voldemort won. Regardless of the victor, Alexander would tear down their world, raze it to the ground. He would create a new one on the ashes, and the survivors would thank him for it. They would be molded into true magicals.

Alexander opened his eye. He summoned Daphne's trunk from the corner and opened it up. A wave of his hand sent the belongings of the room, his once haven, spiraling into the trunk, packing themselves neatly. With a click, it shut, and Alexander shrank it, pocketing it.

He had just one loose end to tie up.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

By the time Alexander made it back to the Great Hall, the Defender's of Hogwarts were trickling out into the courtyard. The Dark Lord's army marched forward, almost like a parade, following two unmistakable figures at the head.

The Dark Lord looked pleased, an inhuman smile upon his face. Hagrid, the Groundskeeper of Hogwarts bawled great tears of sorrow. The reason for both men's state was clear: Harry Potter, lay still in the Groundkeeper's arms.

Alexander barely noticed. His eyes scanned the crowd of Death Eaters across from him, searching out Rookwood's face. The crowd around him murmured a few times and even cheered at one point, but to Alexander, it might as well been the wind blowing through the air.

Suddenly there was fire, and Alexander looked back to see Neville Longbottom being burned alive under the Sorting Hat. Alexander was stunned when a moment later, Neville ripped off the Sorting Hat, pulling a silver sword from within its depths, and beheaded a snake. A moment later, both armies charged one another.

Alexander didn't bother killing any more Death Eaters, merely Dislusioning himself and floating above the messy melee beneath him. He searched the chaotic crowd frantically, determined to find Rookwood before he was killed by somebody else. No one would take Rookwood's life but him.

Alexander saw him. He was dueling Aberforth, the bartender. Before Alexander could approach, to capture him, to stop Aberforth, anything, the bartender threw out a stunner. Rookwood shielded it too slowly and took it to the chest, slumping over in a pile. Aberforth moved on, not even bothering to secure his prisoner.

Not one to tempt his luck, Alexander Dislusioned Rookwood and levitated him next to him in the air. He watched the remained of the battle somewhat curiously, trying to figure out why none of the Defenders succumbed to the Death Eater's spells. Even the Dark Lord's spells seemed to have a limited effect, and Alexander wondered what magic could cause this.

Due to one side being unstoppable, the battle was inevitable. Death Eaters and Snatchers fell, one by one until only the Dark Lord remained standing, glaring hatefully at Harry Potter. Alexander watched in amusement as the two men spoke of wand lore for a moment, taunting one another. And then Harry Potter did something unforgivable to Alexander:

He somehow killed a Dark Lord with a Disarming Hex.

Alexander was stunned as the Defenders dogpiled Potter, covering him in hugs and congratulations. Alexander knew he would have to spend months, if not years, understanding just how the hell Harry Bloody Potter killed a Dark Lord with a Disarming Hex. Shaking his head in disgust, Alexander turned his eyes to the Forbidden Forest and the cloud of Dementors that he could see in the distance quickly fleeing. He needed to make one more stop.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

Rookwood groaned as awareness returned to him. He couldn't believe he lost to Dumbledore's brother, a bartender! If the Dark Lord didn't Crucio him for his failure, he might just do it to himself. He tried to stand.

His limbs refused to move. Rookwood looked around frantically, trying to will his eyes to adjust to the darkness faster, shivering with how cold he was. A candle flickered into existence before him and slowly approached.

"You would be wise to release me," Rookwood threatened, his breath coming out in a fog. "The Dark Lord does not take kindly to those who take his."

"Something tells me I won't have to worry about that anymore," a familiar voice said. The candle came closer, and a figure knelt in front of Rookwood. Slowly the candle was brought to his face. "After all, Potter killed him. Again."

Rookwood glared up into Alexander Dantes' face. "Mudblood," he spat. "You will release me at once!"

"And why would I want to do that?" Alexander asked, moving away. Rookwood hated how the shadows seemed darker without the candle near.

"So I can be put on trial," Rookwood said mockingly. "Isn't that what good little wizards are supposed to do?"

"Crucio."

Rookwood had been hit by far too many Crucio's in his life, most from the Dark Lord's wand. Those dug in deep, almost feeling delighted in the pain they caused. The Mudblood's almost seemed apathetic in comparison, a magnitude of pain lesser, but just as cruel in Rookwood's mind. It was like the magic was full of contempt.

The pain stopped. "Who said I was a good wizard?" Alexander asked.

Rookwood laughed. "It takes more than an Unforgiveable to be a dark wizard, boy."

The candle floated up again, revealing Alexander's face once more. "Oh, I agree. I just wanted you to have a frame of reference for what comes next. Just a taste, I think."

Rookwood only had a moment of confusion before terror set it. The candle flickered, going lower as the chill around him intensified. Black on black moved, and Rookwood realized the room they were in was full of Dementors, calmly watching him. One floated forward and gripped his face with inhuman hands and leaned forward.

The soul was not meant to be touched on the mortal plane. The Dementor sucked in air, creating an awful sound that was a distant second to the sensation of your soul being sucked out. Something that should not move moved, dragged up out of Rookwood's throat in a manner worse than a thousand Crucios.

And then it stopped. The Dementor ghosted back to join its fellows in their silent vigil. Rookwood trembled in terror as Alexander stepped closer, leaning in once more and allowing the candle's light to illuminate his missing eye.

"For six months, you tortured me, Rookwood," Alexander calmly said. "Six months. I think that's where we'll start before you tell me everything you know about the world, magic, and the Department of Mysteries."

Alexander leaned back once more, placing the candle on a table beside him. He took a seat, summoning a pen and paper casually, and set them on his crossed legs. The light of the candle caught his eye, giving it a malicious edge.

"Now, could you please tell me what having your soul sucked out felt like? For science."

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

AN: One more chapter. It'll be short, it's just an epilogue really.

Revenge: Alexander doesn't get revenge on the people who have slighted him, nor on the people who have nothing to do with his torment. Hermione, for example, just did the casual cruelty of a teenager in this story, she won't ever be his focus because that would mean he still has feelings for her (he doesn't). Pucey is a gray area, on one hand he's an entitled Pure-blood who attacked him, but it wasn't a deliberate attack, the Pure-blood wanted to stop the mixing of blood. That isn't to say that if Alexander came across him torturing someone he wouldn't kill the Pure-blood, but he is "unworthy" of Alexander's direct attention at this time. (Alexander does not consider one beating to be on the same level as months of torture for example.)

As for the professors and the remaining Death Eaters? Don't worry, Alexander knows exactly how he'll deal with them.

Alexander's Eye: Honestly, I still haven't decided if I'm going to have him replace it. On one hand, it has the Odin vibe, especially combined with the amount of scars he's collected over the years. On the other hand, if I did give him a new eye, it would definitely be in some manner that made everyone uncomfortable to look him in the eye. I might just pull a Fury and give him an eye patch.

Daphne: It feels a little rushed to me rereading it. I was going to have her fight alongside Alexander, but then I realized that if she loved her sister Astoria as much as I've claimed thus far, she'd want to protect her over fighting. That, combined with the fact that Alexander wasn't there to defend Hogwarts so much as find and capture Rookwood, meant she was fine with letting him go. I did make Alexander give her the portrait for "safe-keeping", as it is a priceless artifact. I have plans for that as well.

Daphne's Letter: Kind of mirroring canon on purpose, with Lily's letter. I wanted to bring the story to a point to remind you, the reader, that this isn't the end, that Alexander has plans on the whole Wizarding World. The letter was to remind him, and you, of that fact, while also giving him his first, true supporter.

Voldemort's Army: Is massive in the movies. Alexander's Mudblood Brigade cut down maybe 100-150 total witches and wizards during their active period, including their eventual fall. At least half are directly caused by Alexander, followed closely by James and Cassandra, in that order. But Voldemort still attacked Hogwarts with thousands of witches and wizards, which leads to...

The Final Battle: I'm going to assume two factors, that the Hogwarts Defenders had a homefield advantage (as well as traps), and that **somebody** (Cough, Alexander, Cough), was killing pretty heavily during the fight. Which is why I boosted his runic explosives a little (which we'll attribute to the Elixir of Life), to make them more deadly. Even though Alexander didn't fight in the second half of the battle, the Defenders couldn't be killed by their enemies' spells, which is why they "won". Which also leads to...

Harry BLOODY Potter: I know why J.K. Rowling wrote her story the way she did. That's great, that's fine, but I love the idea of Alexander being personally offended that Harry Potter somehow kills a Dark Lord with a Disarming Spell. It won't amount to much, but that and the fact that the Defenders were somehow protected in the second half, will definitely be on Alexander's mind.

Rookwood: When I wrote the outline for this story, I wanted a Death Eater "equal" for Alexander. Rookwood is an Unspeakable in canon, part of a department that studies the deeper mysteries of magic. This made him a perfect fit except for the little fact that Aberforth Stuns him during the Final Battle. So, his capture is more than a little anti-climatic, especially since I had to find a reasonable way for Rookwood to escape Alexander in the first half of the battle. Still, I'm pretty happy with how I've managed to insert Alexander into canon without disrupting it over all. That'll be important, because the next book will firmly smash everything to pieces.

And no, I do not consider The Cursed Child canon.

I hope you're all enjoying the story!


	29. Nineteen Years Later

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

Harry Potter touched the scar on his forehead. It had not pained him for nineteen years. All was well.

A penguin Patronus waddled up to him. "Boss? We need you back at the Ministry," Susan Bones' voice said from its mouth. It faded into a mist that blew away.

Harry sighed, picking his daughter Lily up. He kissed her on the cheek before passing her to her mother, Ginny Potter. "I think I'll be home late tonight," Harry said. Considering this was his day off, he found it very likely that he would need to stay late, fixing whatever new disaster that had sprung up.

Ginny frowned but nodded, kissing him on the cheek. "I'll make sure Kreacher keeps something prepared for you."

"Thank you," Harry said, before vanishing with a pop.

The feeling of being sucked through a straw vanished a moment later as he landed in the Ministry of Magic's Atrium. One of the perks of being Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was an exemption through the wards in the Ministry Atrium, although Harry tried not to use the privilege too much. He only did so now, annoyed that his day of sending his sons off to Hogwarts was interrupted.

A moment later, he stepped out of the lifts and into the Auror offices. Susan Bones, Head Auror, immediately appeared at his side.

"Sorry for calling you in, Harry, but I thought it wise considering the circumstances," Susan said. "She's in the interrogation room."

"Who's in the interrogation room?" Harry asked, his feet already moving toward them. Susan fell into step beside him.

"Daphne Greengrass."

Harry instantly stopped and turned to face Susan, who was giving him a grin. "You're kidding."

"Nope," Susan shook her head. "She walked into the Ministry an hour ago and said she wanted to talk about this."

Susan flipped a coin at Harry. Despite the fact that he hadn't done more than play a pick-up game in years, Harry's Seeker reflexes held true, and he snagged the shiny gold coin out of the air. He eyed it warily.

"A Riddle Coin," he said, flipping it over and examining the glowing runes on its surface.

Seventeen years ago, a global magical disturbance occurred. Overnight, millions of small gold coins appeared, one next to every single witch and wizard, age eleven and older, in the world. Magical, squib, creature ancestry, and purity of blood, none of it mattered. Anyone even remotely connected to the Wizarding World had a coin.

It caused quite a bit of panic in the international community. A breach in the Statue of Secrecy had been feared, but it seemed whoever created and distributed the coins had enough sense to wait until the children's birthdays. It actually became a celebration for the young, proof that they were magical.

But the adults weren't so happy. Tests and interrogations were made, questions and information sought, but for weeks nothing happened. And then one young Hufflepuff Muggleborn figured out how to make shapes appear on her coin.

Her discovery had spread like wildfire through Hogwarts and from there the rest of the world. All it took was a muggle cantrip, a ridiculous saying:

Abra Kadabra Alakazam!

Suddenly the coins were covered in carvings and etchings, forming symbols never before seen in the world. The older students and adults realized instantly that they were runes, but they were of a language never before seen in the world. Panic ensued, questions about what curse they had brought upon themselves asked, but the world was calmed by Hermione Weasley, appearing before the International Confederation of Wizards, to encourage international cooperation to solve the mystery.

Concerns remained. What was the purpose of these coins, who had sent them, and how? No ward kept them out, and if a witch or wizard tossed theirs away, it would reappear under their pillow in the morning. They could not be transfigured, vanished, banished, or affected with any magic other than a Summoning Charm. If destroyed, a new coin would appear the next day, as if it were a game. It was confounding.

It was, once again, a student who figured out the next step. If any nation could harness the powers and abilities of teenagers as a force of good, they could conquer the known universe. A student from the Uagadou School of Magic, in Africa, made his coin display new runes after staring intently at it for several hours. When asked how he did, he claimed he solved the riddle.

Students, witches, and wizards all over the globe began to try to solve the mysteries of the Riddle Coins. It was a name that made Harry flinch more often than not, a reminder of another Riddle who had shaped his life. Fortunately, he knew it was unlikely for the coins to be tied to Tom Riddle.

But as Harry stood outside the door of the interrogation room, twirling Daphne's Riddle Coin between his fingers, he pondered another case the woman was tied to. Two years after the Riddle Coins appeared, a seventh-year student in Slytherin vanished one day, in the middle of the Hogwarts, surrounded by his friends. Questioning the young men and women revealed that the Slytherin had claimed to have solved dozens of riddles from his coin, and had recently become much more adept at practical magical subjects.

The Slytherin's belongings were all left behind, except their wand and Riddle Coin, which vanished with them. It was the first of tens of thousands of similar cases globally, appearing slowly over the years and only connected by the fact that every missing person had supposedly solved dozens of riddles from their coins. Daphne Greengrass was one such rumored person, and missing until now.

Harry Potter sighed and pushed the door open.

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

* * *

Thousands of miles away, Alexander sat patiently on a tree stump, gazing at the moon overhead. Two sets of footsteps approached him from behind, stopping a respectful distance away, waiting for Alexander to acknowledge them.

"I've always wondered if you could use magic to get into space," Alexander finally said. His two companions shifted slightly behind him. "Non-magical technology can get you there, of course, but I've always been curious if magic could."

Neither of his companions spoke. "I want to go to space," Alexander said softly, eyeing the stars.

"I wouldn't even know how to go about even starting that," one of them, a man, said. Unseen, Alexander smiled, the scars on his face tugged by the action.

"I do," Alexander softly said, as if he had a secret. "What news do you have?"

"Potter's entered her interrogation room," the second figure, a woman, said promptly. "I'll have a copy of the interrogation report as soon as an Auror writes it."

Alexander did not move or reply for a long moment, letting his solitary eye trace the moon's surface. He hummed as he shifted his gaze to the wilderness before him, taking in the sights.

There, towering over the trees in front of him, was an impossible mountain made of crystal. It glowed softly in the moonlight, illuminating thousands of figures toiling away on dark platforms that encircled it, built into the mountain. One of the dark platforms suddenly began to glow, floating into the air and orbiting the mountain slowly.

"Well, we've started the game. I wonder how it'll finish?" Alexander asked as a handful of figures took flight, chasing after the platform. Another platform began to rise.

A lone wolf howled into the night.

* * *

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* * *

_**Alexander Dantes will return.**_

* * *

Magic Break Can't Be Seen

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AN: And that's a wrap for this story! In case it wasn't clear, **there is a ****sequel**** coming**! I'll be releasing the first chapter this coming Saturday.

I'd like to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, and followed. You're all fantastic, seriously. Thank you for the support!

Epilogue: As much as I didn't like the canon Epilogue, it's going to be entirely accurate. This chapter starts with the last line of canon in case it wasn't clear, although I might have paraphrased it a little. At this point in canon, Harry is either Head of the DMLE or Head Auror. I went with the former. Susan Bones is a popular fanon choice for Auror, so I decided to leave her in place.

Once again, thank you everybody who has read this far. You're fantastic, and I'm glad this many of you like the story. Stay tuned for more, or if you're impatient, you can check out some of my other work on **Tapas **or **Amazon**! Names are in my profile!


	30. Sequel is posted!

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The Sequel is posted! The first chapter of **The Riddle Coins** is now available!

I hope you enjoy the new story!

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